


Melody of the Heart

by Mandochk



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Adventure, During The Hobbit, Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, F/M, Fantasy, Gandalf Is a Little Shit, Gandalf Meddles, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Female Character, Protective Thorin, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 55,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandochk/pseuds/Mandochk
Summary: Grace Walker gets pulled into Middle Earth by Gandalf. This wizard is very insistent that she will be able to change the fate of the world and save two lives in the process. Can she do it? Or is she doomed to fail?
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 87





	1. The abduction of Grace Walker

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is also available on FFN under the same username I am using here. This will be a more explicit version due to FFNs rating system limiting what I can write for that site.

The cool night air felt pleasant after spending too many hours in a hot, stuffy office. I let out a breath, blowing inky hair out of my eyes as I locked the door behind me. I knew that staying behind so long had been a terrible idea. I should have left with Lucy when she left two hours ago, but I had wanted so badly to finish my presentation before the weekend. It was too late for regrets now. The sun had set some time ago and now nothing but darkness lingered in the main street.

I pulled my purse closer against my body as I hurried along the main road, only the odd passing car keeping me company as I made my way home. The area was normally safe enough, but I knew that I couldn't let that lull me into a false sense of security - thinking like that would get me killed one day. I slipped my hand into my purse, wrapping my fingers around the heavy set of keys, and reassured myself that I would give as good as I got if I needed to fight.

I kept my pace quick as I continued on my way, the distant sounds of the city centre reaching my ears. Thursday night was in full swing, various shouts from men that had drunk way too much beer, and the laughter of women seemed to come from every angle as the sounds bounced off the walls. It was a reminder of the life I could have had. Drinking it up with the locals, laughing it up with a group of girlfriends, and waking up in the morning with too much of a headache.

I'd never been one for clubbing. I was more of a book and movie nerd, amassing a stupid amount of knowledge on topics that would never serve me well. It was something that meant that I didn't fit in with my peers. Being a girly-girl had been beyond my ability, my makeup always ended up looking like rubbish, and the glamorous gals I wanted to fit in with had laughed at the geek girl that "looked like a clown". Fitting in with boys had not been any easier, for they never included me in their conversations - because what would a girl know about comic-books?.

As a result, I kept mostly to myself.

My thoughts drifted back to the present moment as a sound from my right side reached my ear. I hadn't even noticed the ominous figure walking two paces behind me. I tightened my grip on my keys and picked up my pace. However, the figure kept up. Every so often his features would be cast into stark contrast by the streetlights. His aged face hidden under the rim of a large wizard's hat, and his gray robes billowed around his body rather dramatically. I didn't recall their being a comic-con being in town today. Maybe this was a guy from the prime club area and had lost the rest of his stag group? Though in all honesty he looked too old to be partaking in stag parties.

"Grace? Grace Walker?" The voice of the older man was low and calm as he called out to me, sounding way too friendly for someone that I didn't even know. How in the blazes did he know my name, anyway? I picked up my pace, entangling my fingers into my keys - fully ready to defend myself if need be. He might be an old man, but that didn't mean he had good intentions.

"Nope, got the wrong lady. Now leave me alone before I call the cops,"

It was extreme, I admit, but I would not take any chances given there was no one else on the road. The sounds of the club district were muffled now, drifting off into the night as I kept following the main road out of the heart of the City. Every so often I chanced a glance back to check to see if the older man was still following me and cursed when I saw that he was even closer now.

Damn, grandpa could move if he wanted to! Maybe it wasn't an old man, but a younger man in convincing old man makeup? It would not be the first time such a thing happened. I'd read an article once about an old guy committing a major jewel heist one day. When they put the fingerprints into the system, it revealed that the old man wasn't so old after all - just some punk ass teenager wearing prosthetics and heavy makeup to make him look older.

"You are most definitely Grace Walker. I have been looking for you everywhere. Come now, the fate of middle earth rests on your shoulders,"

The old coot had a few loose marbles. Who on earth talked about middle earth as if it were an actual thing? Perhaps he'd escaped from the care home two blocks down? It would explain his behaviour and odd dress, but it didn't explain how he knew my name! I kept up my pace, pulling the keys from my purse and reaching for the mobile phone in my pocket. A powerful hand wrapped around my wrist, stronger than what I expected given the age of the man following, and I rounded on my attacker in the blink of an eye.

My keys punched into his shoulder, the metal of my key fob jingling merrily as it contacted his clothing and then hit into solid muscle. Damn, Grandpa worked out!

'Grandpa' gave me a wane smile, amused with my antics as his eyes roamed up and down my body. Freekin pervert! He was at least thrice my age! I knew there was a study that said the older population had crazy libidos, but this was ridiculous. There had to be plenty of lovely ladies his own age he could seduce, but no, he had to come out here and be weird to a woman in her mid-twenties. His head bobbed up and down as if agreeing with some inner argument he was having in his head, then lifted his clear gray eyes to look into mine.

"I think he will like you very much" He? What in the hell was the elderly man talking about? Not only was freaking Grandpa accosting me, but he was also playing the pronoun game as if I knew what the blazing fuck he was going on about.

I didn't have time to even ask because the old man had placed one of his hands on my forehead and the world fell into darkness.


	2. Fili and Kili

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the Kudos! 
> 
> I am posting this chapter a little early so it is synced up with FFN updates.

My head felt like absolute hell, as if someone had been trying to smash it open with a hammer. The soft sound of bird song drifted somewhere from above me, and I let out a groan. Old man pervert had left me in the middle of the street somewhere! Panic filled me as I patted my body with one hand, checking for my clothing and letting out a sigh of relief as I felt the fabric of my t-shirt under my fingers.

"She's waking up"

A male voice reached my ears, speaking a language I did not understand. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt way too heavy and each attempt ended with the lids firmly closing once again. When I did finally get my eyes to open again, it was to a scene that was far different to the one I had last seen. The dimly lit high road was gone, as were the well-maintained office buildings and the perpetual sounds of a city that never slept. Instead, all I could see was trees! Trees and a curious male face looking down at me.

I couldn't help the scream that left me, my legs flaring into life to kick at the man, and hitting the blonde-haired male in the middle of his sternum. The male let out a 'opphh' sound, falling backward while I tried to scoot back as far away from him as I could. The old pervert hadn't left me in the street, he'd dumped me in a forest somewhere and now some mountain man had found me. Panic flooded my system, my heart running a thousand beats a second as my back hit against the trunk of a massive tree and preventing any further escape from the pair.

My legs felt weak as I struggled to push my body upright, the muscles still tingling as they had been curled under me and sat on for far too long. I used the tree for support, my hands holding onto the bark for dear life as I looked back to see if the man had followed me. The blonde man was still sat where he had fallen, eyes wide as he looked to the left of him with an offended look on his face as another man stepped out of the woods with a hearty laugh. This man was dark of hair, with a kindly pair of eyes, and had a neatly trimmed beard. His features were just similar enough to the blonde I guessed the pair had to be brothers.

Now that my panic was fading slightly I couldn't help but think the pair looked awfully like Kili and Fili from The Hobbit movies. Their facial features and clothing were accurate right down to the very last detail! A laugh left me. Not a laugh of delight, but more a laugh of someone that was suffering with too much shock and no longer able to believe what they were seeing. The old man had to have given me quite the whack on the head because I was clearly delusional!.

"Where the fuck am I!"

The two men looked at one another, again talking in that language I did not understand, and then the one that looked like Kili walked toward me. His hands were held upright in a soothing manner, one hand fully gloved and the other with just the fingers exposed. The man wore no jewels nor any other markings of his rank - the only sign of finery being the elaborate designs on his gloves. I kept a hold of the tree as I slipped around it, keeping the trunk between me and this unknown man - because I still didn't know what the pair wanted from me.

"The borders of the shire M'lady. Are you okay?"

Was he on drugs? The shire didn't exist beyond a small tourist destination in New Zealand, a few movies, and a series of books. The pounding in my head got stronger, and I tightened my grip on the tree as the world swung on its axis for a sickening moment. I had to rest my hand over my brow and right eye just to ward off the worst of the pain. Right now all I wanted was an ibuprofen and my cell phone so I could call my family to come and pick me up… and maybe the police, yes I needed to let the police know that what had happened to me. But first I had to deal with the man that insisted that I was on the borders of the shire and his blonde-haired pal, who was still giving me a wary look.

"The shire? Are you having a laugh? There is no such thing as the shire. Can you please just tell me where I am and call the Police."

The one that looked like Fili finally got to his feet, still rubbing the spot where I had kicked him in the chest, and moved to stand near his darker haired companion. His left hand came to rest on his companion's arm, a look in his eyes that asked the other to be careful. The looks on their faces was something I would never forget. I didn't need them to say anything to know that they had never heard of the Police before! Fuck, where on earth had that old idiot brought me to? I wondered what kind of cult the pair had grown up in if they thought they were in the shire and the police did not exist?

"I assure you, lass, the Shire is very much real. What are the police you talk about?"

The one that looked like Kili had a smooth voice as he talked, brow raised as he looked over at me, still clearly wary of me but still seeming to want to help. He then shrugged out of his thick fur coat and held it out towards me with a kindly smile. "Those odd clothes don't look very warm. Here, take this ... it'll keep you warm" I eyed the coat. It looked warm enough, but after what happened with the older man the night before, I didn't think it entirely safe to go near the stranger right now.

Seeming to pick up that I still was not entirely comfortable with him, the dark-haired man lowered the coat to the ground and then stepped back. The male left me more than enough space to safely retrieve the heavy item and throw it around my shoulders. The heavy fur smelled of tobacco, sandalwood, cloves and a slight musk that was distinctly male. I didn't realise how cold I really was until the warmth of the cloak slowly drifted into me, bringing with it a sense of calm and disorienting assurance that this might well really be the shire.

"We should take her to Bree. I am sure there will be someone there that will know her"

The one that looked like Fili had an ever so slightly deeper voice. The braids on his moustache shifting with every move, and I became fascinated by it for a moment. How did he keep them so clean? Anytime I tried to braid my hair it always looked a mess, strands of thin hair sticking up at every angle despite copious amounts of hair spray. I wanted to ask the male what hair product he used to maintain such a well-groomed appearance - because that's something you apparently think about when your stressed brain is trying to figure out what was real life and what was fantasy created by concussion.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the darker-haired male shaking his head at the suggestion, his arms crossed over his broad chest and a look of concern crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Not enough time. We're supposed to meet the others tonight, remember! I don't think Gandalf or Thorin will wait for us if we are late" My head darted up at the mentioning of Gandalf. If this place was real, and that was a huge if, then Gandalf would be the one that could help me. First, by hopefully explaining how in the living hell I had come to this place, and secondly by sending me back. He was a powerful wizard, so it had to be in his power to do such a thing ... right?

"Wait. You said Gandalf? Take me to him, he can help me."

The two men looked at each other, thinking this over, and then nodded as if this was the most reasonable suggestion. They then lowered into half bows, the movement precise and well drilled as if they had practiced it all their lives, and then they officially introduced themselves to me.

"Kili" the dark-haired one spoke first.

"And Fili" the blond-haired one interjected quickly.

"At your service" They finished together

Except I didn't want them to be at my service. This wasn't supposed to be real! I kept a hand to the tree, appreciating its support as I tried to mimic the same movement they had made and feeling uncoordinated in my attempt. "Grace Walker at yours" my voice sounded strained, battling against the tide of emotions that welled up inside me as I wondered what fate held in store for me if I really was in Middle Earth. This happened to fangirls that had lived their lives in the hope of suddenly being pulled into middle earth, fangirls that would have trained in the arts of the sword and bow - not some plain office worker that'd sooner trip over their own feet then kill an orc.

I pushed my body away from the tree, making my way back toward the pair, and pulled the fur coat around me as if it would hide me from this world. Kili and Fili chatted merrily away to me, their odd accents making more sense now. I still didn't want to believe that this was middle earth, but each moment that passed only made that reality more believable. This place didn't have the same feeling as earth, it didn't have the lingering realities of a world being slowly suffocated by humans. If this had been a forest back home, I would have seen signs of fellow humans by now. Yet there was nothing here of my modern world. Not one plastic bag floating in the branches of a tree, no trash strewn on the ground, and no signs of tree felling.

Eventually the pair led me to a crackling fire. They had circled a few stones around it to stop the flames spreading, and a sturdy branch was functioning as a support for a small cauldron that hung over the fire. A brownish liquid bubbling away within the container, wisps of steam rising from the surface and filling the air with a sweet-scented aroma. I allowed my body to flop down onto the ground, the warmth of the fire brushing over my face as I stared into the dancing flames.

"So. How did you come to be unconscious in the woods?"

Kili's voice drew my attention to him. He had a set of bright blue eyes that had a kindly edge to them. I tried to give the young dwarf a smile - although it felt watery. I didn't know what I should tell the pair, because if I didn't believe this was middle earth, they wouldn't believe I was from some futuristic world either. I settled for being as vague as possible.

"I don't know. All I remember is walking home, bumping into an old man, and then darkness. I guess he attacked me and dumped me off here?"

Kili and Fili looked absolutely horrified. I might not be a massive fan of Tolkien's works, but even I knew that dwarves treated their women with utmost respect. So the idea that a man might attack a woman must be something beyond reproach in their culture. Fili leaned closer towards me, fingers threading together, and elbows braced against the insides of his knees.

"Did he ... you know ...?"

One hand shifted to motion in the general area of my nether regions, and I felt a frigid chill travel my body as I realised what he was asking. I shook my head, hair flicking against the side of my head because of the motion.

"No ... at least not as far as I know"

If the older man had tried something I liked to think I'd know about it. It was a startling reminder of just how feral and dangerous this world was, a far cry from the modern world. Yes, such things happened in the modern era too, but I got the feeling such things happened often here. The pair chattered to themselves in khazdul once again, their voices laced in concern and then reaching for the small cauldron. They drained some liquid out into a small wooden cup, which was offered toward me with.

"Tea?"

I accepted the cup from him. Both surprised and delighted that Middle-Earth had tea and wondering what the next day might hold for me.


	3. To The Shire

I hated walking.

Scratch that, hate was not a strong enough word to describe how I felt right now.

I FUCKING hated walking

Yes, that was a more appropriate sentence to describe how I was feeling right now. I was used to walking and being on my feet for lengthy periods of time, but right now I wasn't exactly dressed for a merry jaunt in the woods! I was wearing a simple pair of slip on flats that had absolutely no cushioning and did nothing to support my arches. Every stone and branch in the forest was making itself known to me with every step I took. If my feet hadn't had hurt so much then I might well have admired my surroundings - but I could not.

All I could focus on was the hateful road as it tormented my poor feet! I wished that I had been wearing my walking shoes when I had been brought into this world, for that would have been a little better - but NOOOOOOOOOO fate had to make sure I was as uncomfortable as I could be, and it wasn't as if I was taking a short walk down to the corner shop. We'd been walking all day, and I felt as if we'd barely moved! In fact, if it were not for the pale lights twinkling on the darkening horizon, I might have thought we were still in the forest. This world seemed to have an endless horizon, a landscape that stretched out without end in front of my feet. Yes, the Earth I had once called home was also impossibly large, but when all you saw was the same over-crowded city, it was all too easy to forget that there was a world beyond it.

Fili had assured me not more than an hour ago that Hobbiton was not far away. The aforementioned lights on the horizon, he had told me, were the very outward Simal's of the town - little more than farmer's huts for the hobbits that tended the fields. Hobbiton proper laid not far beyond, and at our current pace we would reach our destination just after nightfall. It still felt like an age away, a warm place of safety and warmth that remained tauntingly out of reach. I found my thoughts wandering to the hobbit that I would soon meet - one Bilbo Baggins. Would he to look and act like his movie counter part? Would Bag End be just as homely as they had portrayed it? I hoped beyond hope that it was, for I'd always been infatuated with hobbit holes and had wanted to one-day visit Hobbiton in New Zealand.

Visiting the actual Bag End seemed so much better than some poxy tourist destination filled with way too many people.

The merry sound of Fili and Kili singing in Khazdul had accompanied most of the walk. The two brothers seemed in high spirits, their lips lifted often in bright smiles and eyes twinkling in delight. It must be so nice for a pair that had not travelled before to see unknown parts of the world and be on some grand adventure! I didn't see the appeal of putting oneself in danger; it was bad enough getting on a plane, but to walk the breadth of middle-earth with orcs running amok seemed lunacy to me. Yet here I was, walking through middle-earth where said orcs could jump out at me whenever they liked.

It didn't make me feel any better to know that I was safe in the lands of the Hobbits. Throughout the day I occasionally looked upward into the distance for unseen dangers, and that constant scanning of the horizon had gotten worse as the sun set. The two brothers either didn't notice that I was ill at ease, or they had and just decided it was not worth worrying themselves over. They were trained well enough in battle, and confident enough in those skills to protect themselves and their new ward if need be. I was envious of their ability to not worry ... to sing and have a splendid time.

By all rights I too should enjoy this wonderful opportunity to explore Middle Earth, if even for a short time - but what was there to enjoy? In my current mindset, there was very little in the way of positive aspects to be found in this no doubt beautiful country.

Kili's cloak was pulled tighter against my body to chase away the growing chill of the evening. The fur was heavy around my shoulders and I briefly wondered what animal had given up its life to be made into such an item. The fur seemed too long to be deer hide, but not long enough for a wolf. Perhaps beaver or rabbit? Or maybe some other animal that made its home in middle-earth but did not exist in mine. Wherever it was made of it insulated my body well enough, and I soon felt warmth making its way through my body.

"Do you think we'll make it before the others,"

I hadn't even noted that the pair had stopped singing until Fili spoke. He sounded more than a little apprehensive at the idea that they might be the last ones to the meeting. The lighter-haired brother seemed to be the most eager to get to Hobbiton, always pressing for us to go just a little faster to make better time. Kili seemed the more relaxed of the pair, as if he didn't carry the same weight of expectation as his brother, and even now he spoke in a calm voice to reassure the other.

"We are making good time. I am sure we will arrive before uncle, relax."

My step slowed a little as I moved to walk beside Kili, quirking an inquisitive brow at the mention of their uncle. I knew I should not be nosy, that I had no right to pry into things that had nothing to do with me, but it took my mind off my throbbing feet and so I would be nosy if I damn well wanted to!

"Your uncle isn't that terrifying, is he?"

Fili's face darkened, his lips pulling back to show white teeth, and the slightest sound of frustration rolled from his throat.

"Thorin Oakenshield is not a Dwarf to be crossed. He is the King and has made it well known what he expects of me and all his subjects. He will not be impressed if we are late brother, you know that he thinks ill of those that are late to affairs of state,"

I watched as Kili shrugged his shoulders, seeming unconcerned at his brother's warning that we should not be late. It crossed my mind then that perhaps the brothers had two unique views on what their uncle was like, that perhaps the older brother being the heir to the throne had seen a more uptight version of Thorin than the younger brother had. Kili soon confirmed my suspicions as his softer voice drifted over the wind to my ears.

"He is not all terrible brother, you know that. He just wants what is best for us, especially after father died. Sometimes, that comes across as if he's uncaring, but he's genuinely doing his best by us,"

I could see that Fili wasn't buying this. Perhaps he never would. It was hard to marry up what kind of person Thorin was when presented with two opposing views of the man. Perhaps it was more complex than just black and white? Perhaps I would have to make my mind up about what he was like when I finally met the man for myself. IF I got to meet him that is. I intended to be out of here long before he arrived if I had anything to do with it! There was a part of me however that was curious, that wanted to see more, but I also wanted to go home.

"It wouldn't hurt him to show he cares once in a while. He might show it to you, but you are not the heir - he doesn't have to be as tough with you,"

Fili was hurting. Somewhere deep inside, he wanted the same love that his brother did. He knew it wasn't healthy to desire something he might never get, and yet he wanted it, anyway. I felt sorry for Fili. No one should have to long to be loved by a parent figure, only to be treated with cold aloofness. At least he had his brother. If he didn't have Kili, then there would probably be very few people in his life that cared how he felt. Kili offered his brother a sad smile and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I know. I also wish that perhaps he would be more open with you, but he's as trapped by his title as much as you are trapped by yours ..."

It was kind of assuring in a sick way to know that royalty was just as toxic in this world as it was in mine. I had spent all my childhood wanting to be a princess, enamoured by the gorgeous dresses worn by the younger royals and their glamorous lifestyles. But, as I got older and saw just how dreadful it all was - how trapped those young people were by a title. Well, lets just say I quickly stopped wanting to be a princess after that. No one deserved to be trapped into a life of constant perfection just because they were born or married into such a family. What would these two brothers and their uncle be like if they were not royalty? Probably in a more open and loving family relationship than they now had.

"I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help,"

Fili looked sad, as if he too wished that perhaps something or someone would help change his uncle for the better. His eyes were now focused on the growing lights of Hobbiton, his expression saying that perhaps this meeting with his family no longer had the same appeal that it once did. I knew that the feeling would fade, that by the time he met Bilbo he would be the same happy smiling Fili from earlier in the day, but the desire to meet up to his uncle's expectations would still linger under all that.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I very much doubt anything or anyone will make him change,"

We fell into silence as we walked, my mind drifting away as it wondered if there might be a chance for Thorin. I knew from the books and movies that he'd had some change of heart before he died, but I doubted Fili ever got to see the softer half of his uncle before they all died. But I'd been pulled into this world now, if even for a short time, and I wondered if maybe me just talking to the brothers like this would lay the foundations for even the smallest change in family dynamic in this new 'reality' I had created. I hated to think I might cause any changes to the written history of the world, but if it was a good change then what did it even matter? Everyone deserved to be loved by family.

I made it my goal to at least encourage the brother's to talk to their uncle about this before I left, because then I would feel like I had repaid their kindness - lord knows I couldn't pay them. I didn't think two of the queen's best twenty-pound notes would count for much in this world. Physical currency was probably a rarity here, only owned by the richest families, and those that were poorer would rely on a trading system to get what things they could not grow or make themselves. So lost in thought was I that I thumped into Kili's broad back with a low grunt.

"We are here,"

The simal in front of me was a lot bigger than I expected. Rising above my head was a sizable green hill. If it were not for the half circular windows and large round door set into the hillside, I would never have thought this was a home! Well tended flowerbeds bloomed just under the windows, filling my nose with the faint scent of night flowering jasmine and bringing a smile to my lips at the thought gardens existed here. I was almost about to ask how Kili knew that we were in the right place, when I spotted a familiar blue sigil glowing in the middle of the round door - Gandalf's sigil. This was definitely the place!

Fili lifted a hand and rapped on the door three times, the sound echoing in the hallway beyond. The smile was slowly returning to his face now, though the eagerness had yet to return - he was still too worried about being late, I realised. I rested a hand in the middle of his back, knowing that this might be an inappropriate thing for a woman in this world to be doing with a man she barely knew, but I wanted him to know that I was there for him if he needed it. Fili's body felt tense, I could feel it even with the thick layer of leather and mail shirt between my hand and his skin, and I wished I could do more to help him relax.

The sound of a faint whimper and a half muttered desire for no more dwarves made itself known behind the door just before it opened to reveal a rather stressed looking male that looked no older than sixteen. Except this was not a pre-teen. This was a fully grown hobbit that I was looking at, a hobbit that was looking up at us with a look of despair. His mouth opened and closed as if he wanted to say something, and yet couldn't seem to find words to even express how he must have felt at that moment. I watched in shocked silence as Kili and Fili dropped into deep bows as they made their introductions.

"Fili and Kili, at your service,"

That bright eyed look was sneaking back into Fili's eyes at the excitement of finally meeting the hobbit. He reminded me once again of a much younger man that had his entire life ahead of him, cheeks flushed red with anticipation and lips quirked into the first genuine smile I had seen over the last half an hour.

"You must be Mr. Boggins."

I slapped the fair-haired dwarf in his ribs with the back of my hand, almost pushing my way into the door so I could look him it the eye.

"It is Mr. Baggins ... Bilbo Baggins, to be exact. Sorry about them, I am Grace Walker, at your service,"

It didn't even cross my mind that such a greeting might not be standard across all races of middle earth. It was the only one I had heard, and it wasn't as if the two dwarven brothers had enlightened me on anything about this world. I watched the hobbit as he rocked back and forth on his feet, eyes still wide as he tried to swing the door shut on our faces. I didn't blame him for trying to shut us out. We had called in on him without asking if he consented to us turning up at his house at such a late hour - nope; we had just turned up.

"Nope, you can't come in. You've come to the wrong house,"

Kili slipped a foot into the doorway to stop the hobbit from closing the door fully on us, which felt a little too close to breaking and entering. The two Dwarves had a lot more muscle than the hobbit did, easily overpowering him and stepping back in through the doorframe and into the hallway of the Simal. I found my hands partially covering my face in sheer embarrassment, wanting nothing more than for the two men to be a little more thoughtful of their host, who still looked terrified of the pair. I would be scared too if two strange men muscled their way into my house!

"What? Has it been cancelled?"

"No one told us,"

Fili sounded just as concerned as his brother, brows furrowed as he looked to his brother and back to the increasingly confused looking Bilbo. The hobbit's brows had lifted so far that they had almost vanished into his curly hair, and his lips were twisted into an expression that only enhanced the general expression of 'What the fuck is going on' that he wore on his face.

"No, Nothing's been cancelled,"

That was all Kili, and Fili needed to hear. The pair sweeping past the smaller hobbit and into his hallway, a soft muttering of 'That's a relief' reaching my ears as the pair stepped into a small cubby to relieve themselves of their weaponry. I warily stepped in after them, offering a wane smile to the hobbit and bowing slightly to the poor fellow who looked like he'd had just about enough for one night.

"I am sorry that we have intruded in on you at such brief notice. If we had some way to warn you ahead of time, I assure you we would have done so,"

I felt like the least I could do was try to smooth over the rudeness of the two brothers, especially when I could see Kili cleaning his boots on Bilbo's furnishings. I thought he was supposed to be a prince with 'expectations' and all that shit! Such ideals didn't extend to hobbits or their poor departed mother's glory box.

It would be a very long night and I felt like this wouldn't be the last time I would ever have to apologize for the behaviour of the pair.


	4. Meeting Gandalf

Fili and Kili had abandoned me as soon as they walked into Bilbo's house proper.

I could hear their excitement as they exchanged pleasantries with a bald-headed dwarf who looked so much like his movie counter-part that there was no mistaking this to be Dwalin. All thick muscle and a pair of glowering eyes that'd put the fear into any man that dared to cross him. His beard was thick and bushy, trimmed shorter at the chin, with two flaring moustaches that twitched with every word he spoke. A thick mass of greying black hair tumbled down the large male's back, a stark contrast to the bald upper half of his scalp. Unlike the two brothers that I had already met, he did not have any braids of his own - at least not that I could see from my current position standing in the hallway.

Dwalin turned to wrap a thick arm around the shoulders of the much younger Kili and turned him toward what I assumed to be the dining hall - giving me a better view of the tattoos etched on his scalp. For a moment I wondered what method dwarves used for tattooing. Maybe a rake and striking stick? Ancient tattooing methods where not exactly my forte and I promised myself that the moment I got home I would get onto google and educate myself on the matter. Bilbo let out a sound of dismay as the much taller males vacated his hallway, forlorn eyes focusing on the mud that had been trailed all over his hallway and smeared over the surface of his poor mother's glory box.

I wanted to tell him it would be okay, that he would get through this night in one piece, but then a rapping at the door reminded me of just how much more poor Bilbo had to get through before the night was over. My body pressed in against the wall as the hobbit stomped past me, his dismay replaced with anger as he made his way towards the door with one of Kili's swords still held in his arms.

"No, No, No. There's nobody home! Go away and bother somebody else!"

The sword was dropped onto the top of a chest hastily; the metal clattering against the wood. Bilbo didn't seem to care much about if he had damaged the blade or not, his attention now fully focused on the merrily tinkling bell that continued to chime from the direction of his front door. His right hand waved through the air, thumb jabbing in the kitchen's direction as he continued to shout at whoever was at his doorway now. As if he thought his shouting would be enough to discourage whatever new visitor waited beyond his threshold.

"There are too many dwarves in my dinning room as it is. If this is someone's idea of a joke, I can only say that it's in very poor taste,"

A manic laugh left him mid-sentence as his hand rested on the door handle, turned it and then opened the doorway. Whatever the hobbit had expected, it was not a pile of dwarves falling into his hallway! Disbelieving eyes focused on the group as various arms and legs flailed from the pile of bodies, blinking a few times as if hoping maybe they might all vanish if he blinked hard enough, and then seeming to note the dark shadowy figure that stood just outside the doorframe. Bilbo's shoulders lifted and raised in a half sigh at the sight of the wizard, as if this suddenly explained everything that had happened to him so far that night.

"Gandalf,"

The wizard stepped into the hallway, leaning heavily on his staff and giving the hobbit a broad smile. If I didn't already know who Gandalf was, I would have thought him to be just another average elderly man, his face wrinkled with age and a kindly smile in his eyes. Those same kindly eyes moved from the hobbit, travelling the hallway and then finally settled on me. There was a look of recognition in those eyes, eyes that had seen a dozen lifetimes and might yet see a dozen more. It left me feeling a little on edge as he walked closer towards me, suddenly seeming so much taller now that he was but a few short steps from me. His face was familiar to me… all too familiar! Then it finally twigged on me on why he looked so familiar to me.

Gandalf was the crazy old man that had assaulted me on the street the previous night!

"Grace Walker, I am glad to see you are alive and well,"

Anger surged within me as I looked up at the wizard, feeling short for the first time in my life, but I would not back down. This wizard was the reason I was here! I stomped a foot slightly, head tilting up as I tried to fix my best glare up at the wizard and only getting an amused smile. Insufferable git.

"Don't you give me that! You left me in the middle of the forest, I'm lucky to not be dead"

Gandalf shifted to rest his weight a little more into his staff, at least having the decency to look slightly chastised. His eyes dropped from mine to watch as the dwarves finally disentangled themselves from the floor. I could see more than a few curious eyes looking in my direction, dark and hale as if wondering what a woman was doing here. A low gravelly sound of contemplation left the wizard, a wrinkled hand reaching into his robes and pulling out a pale wooden pipe. The scent of tobacco soon filled the room as he lit the weed that had been packed into the bowl, the slight glow from the embers lighting his face in warm light.

"Nonsense dear, you where perfectly safe… Kili and Fili found you, did they not?"

It sounded a little too much like he had planned all this in advance. Now I was seeing why few people were keen of the wizard - how many times had he inserted himself into someone's life, made a mess of it, and claimed it was fine because it had all turned out okay in the end. I crossed my arms over my chest, watching as the dwarves slowly made their way out of the hallway. Clearly they where not keen to be involved in a fight between a wizard and a human female. I tried to be intimidating, one brow raising as I tried to fight my argument and feeling all too awkward at the same time. It wasn't often that I had a battle of words with people, I usually lost such arguments, and I knew that Gandalf could win this one all too easily.

"They did. But that's not the point… You didn't even ask me if I would be okay with this. Send me back right now!"

A saddened expression drifted into facial features, stealing the kindly light in his eyes. The look caused an icy chill to fill my entire body, for the look alone was all I needed to answer my question. I slumped back against the wall, the sheer weight of the world pulling me down with it as I dropped onto one of Bilbo's many chests.

"I am afraid to say that there is no way back. The spell I used to pull you here was a one-way journey. You are now a part of this world,"

My head dropped into my hands as the reality of the situation sunk in. Gandalf had pulled me from my world, a world full of friends and family, and unceremoniously dumped into an unfamiliar reality. How was I supposed to make a life here? I didn't think my office job had enough transferable skills for me to take up farming, and the thought that I might have to become some meek house wife filled me with dread. This was a world where men ruled the roost and women were little more than property to be traded. Despite my emotional turmoil, I still had enough presence of mind to be glad that the dwarves had all retreated to the dining room, for this was not a conversation they needed to be privy to.

"So what do I do now?"

"You will come with me."

Gandalf couldn't possibly be suggesting what I thought he was? Oh good lord, all mighty! I did not need the temptation that came with travelling along side the Wizard. There were so many things I could do during this journey that could change the fate of the world - from something as minor as insisting that the company never go through Mirkwood, to something as major as saving Thorin's life. Then there was the ring. I could warn the wizard about what Bilbo would find in the halls of the goblin king, what horrors such a trinket would unleash on the world and insist that it be destroyed before it got a chance to torment poor Frodo.

"Are you sure that's entirely wise? You surely know about the knowledge I possess. It's too dangerous."

Gandalf didn't seem as concerned as I was about such things. Calmly smoking his pipe and blowing smoke rings into the hallway. The soft chatter of the dwarves drifting from the dining room and the occasional lament of Bilbo filled the silence between us. With the option of going home torn away from me, all I wanted to do was go crawl into some dark corner of middle-earth and try to live my life in peace. Perhaps I could get a job as a barmaid at the Prancing Pony? I didn't think you needed qualifications for that beyond having a pretty face.

"I would not have brought you here if I thought you dangerous."

Yeah, I didn't agree with that at all. Gandalf clearly had some screws loose if he thought bringing me here was safe. What if the servants of Sauron captured me? An icy chill ran down my spine as the very idea crept into my thoughts. Where I would use my knowledge to change things for the better, Sauron would torture that information from me to bend the whole of middle earth to his will. It was far too great a risk for me to travel with Thorin and his company, perhaps even too much of a risk for me to be here at all.

"I disagree. The knowledge I possess could bring about the downfall of middle earth if it falls into the wrong hands - it's a risk I refuse to take. You are a wizard, right? Can't you just erase my memories of this world's history."

His gaze shifted to look down the hallway, the tip of his pipe trailing over his lips as he considered my request. The scent of pipe-smoke hung in the air, stinging the back of my nose and bringing with it long lost memories of my dear departed Grandfather. He'd been gone two years now, but sometimes certain smells would bring him vividly back to life. Gandalf's eyes opened, a deep sigh parting his lips as if he finally accepted that perhaps I was right.

"I could, but I will not. I did not bring someone with your knowledge to this world unless I wished you to use it,"

I felt sick to the stomach. I didn't like the idea that Gandalf had brought me here to serve some unknown purpose. That it was almost certainly expected of me to do something with my knowledge of this world. I wished that he had asked me, but would I have agreed if I knew of the path he planned to put in front of me? Probably not. I would have beseeched him to ask someone a little more willing and more capable than myself. The skin of my palms rubbed roughly against my head as I tried to dissipate the growing anxiety crawling underneath my scalp.

"Why me? I'm not an adventurer, Gandalf. I can't even hold a sword. How on earth are you even going to convince them to bring me along?"

Thorin would never agree to it. In the movies he had needed convincing that Bilbo should come along, and even then it took months for the dwarrow to acknowledge that the hobbit was of value. The wizard threw an arm around my shoulders, pulling me along with him as he stepped toward the dining room.

"Leave that to me,"

I still felt awkward about the whole situation when we stepped into the dinning hall. The room looked impossibly cramped now that twelve dwarves had made themselves comfortable around Bilbo's table. They had laid plates of various shapes and sizes out on the table, some still heaving with food, and others were already in the process of being emptied by hungry Dwarrow. Raucous laughter echoed off the walls, accompanied by some very colourful jokes that would make even my father turn a bright shade of red. My stomach still didn't feel like it could manage much food, but I knew that it would be for the best to get something into my belly now before the dwarves ate everything in sight.

"Catch!"

An unfamiliar voice had me dipping my head down, just as a bread roll went soaring through the air. Loud cheers coming from each of the men around the table as a rotund Dwarrow that could only be Bombur caught it in his mouth. Table manners didn't seem to be something that this troupe knew anything about, with entire bodies leaning over the table to reach some prized treat without thinking they might squash something beneath their stomachs. It reminded me of the only time I had attended my work's Christmas Party. The whole thing had started out civilised enough, but once everyone had gotten a few drinks under their belts, all rules had been thrown out and the bawdy behaviour had begun.

Much like that Christmas Party, this merry little gathering was fast developing from somewhat civilised behaviour to outright chaos as the mead flowed. The bread roll I had been trying to eat getting stuck in my throat as I watched a somewhat tipsy Dwalin trying to siphon his tankard of drink into Oin's hearing horn with a somewhat slurred 'here you go'. The moment he emptied the tankard Dwalin turned it upside down on the table, enormous hands enthusiastically drumming the table the moment the object had left his fingers. The sight of Oin moving the horn hastily from his ear to his lips to try and 'catch' as much mead as humanely possible before gravity drained it had me silently snorting in laughter.

Oin couldn't help himself but to laugh also, a small fountain of liquid expelling from his hearing horn as he almost chocked on the very same liquid he was still trying to drink. The sight of their kinsman's outer tunic and bead becoming soaked with mead as Oin continued to cough only drew more loud laughs from his kin. Luckily for Oin, Dwalin took pity on him and patted his back a few times to help the older dwarrow cough up the last few drops of mead.

The night could only get better from here ... or worse ... these were the dwarves of Erebor after all.


	5. The arrival of Thorin

My legs stretched out under the table and hands resting over my overly full stomach, half-open eyes watching the dwarrow as they milled around the room. With dinner now finished they had set about cleaning up after themselves, which I felt was awfully polite of them after they had descended on Bilbo's pantry like a plague of locusts.

I had been both impressed and astounded to see just how much food the twelve of them had devoured in the course of just a short half hour. Even I had eaten more than I had originally planned to! I'd not felt hungry at first, but as soon as I had laid eyes on the Stilton cheese I had found my appetite. I'd always been a sucker for cheese, the smell that had come from this blend had been to die for, and before I knew it I had ended up with a heaving plate of food.

"Excuse me! That is a doily, not a dishcloth."

Bilbo's voice broke me out of my stupor, drawing my attention to the hubbub in the hallway. Dwarves flitted back and forth, some carrying dishes to be washed up elsewhere in the house and others drying down the cutlery. The chaos from the 'feast' had died down to a much calmer rumble as each dwarf settled into conversations amongst themselves. I didn't know what they talked about for it was all in Khazdul, but I got the general impression from their far away expressions that they were talking about family they had left behind in the blue mountains.

"But it's full of holes."

I almost chortled as I heard Bofur's confused statement. Doilies where not the domain of dwarves - they were far too prim and proper. A 'tut' that could only be the hobbit followed Bofur's words, and I resisted the urge to get up from my seat, for I was far too comfortable. Besides, I wanted to be out of the way when the dwarves started their little sing song.

"It's supposed to look like that. It's crochet."

"And a wonderful game it is too, if you've got the balls for it."

The blatant innuendo caused a wave of laughter from the dwarrow in the room, that only drew more muttered cursing from Bilbo. Poor old soul had to be 'saved' by Gandalf. I knew that Gandalf had reasons to bring the hobbit on the journey, that Bilbo would eventually grow to enjoy a more adventurous life away from his doilies, but right now I just couldn't see it. All I could hear was a distressed individual lamenting about the state of his kitchen and carpeting - it made me think of my dear grandmother. She loved having us children over for weekends, but had never enjoyed cleaning the messes that we often left in our wake.

A startled sound left the hallway, and I looked up just in time to see a plate flying past my face! Laughter drifted from various parts of the household, followed by more cutlery being thrown along a line of dwarves. The entire system started with the living garbage disposal that was Bombur, various remains of foodstuffs being funnelled into his mouth, and ended no doubt in the kitchen where the dish would be washed. I still didn't know how Bombur managed to even fit any more food into him, but without fail he would eat whatever scraps were offered in his directions as several of the dwarves drummed a merry little tune with their forks.

"Can you not do that? You'll blunt them,"

Bombur who had just re-joined us at the table fixed the hobbit with a cheeky grin and then gave Dori a light heated jab in the ribs with his elbow.

"Ooohhhh, Do you hear that lads, he says we'll blunt the knives,"

I couldn't help myself, my excitement taking over me as the first notes of a familiar song drifted over from the direction of a widely smiling Kili. My desire to be a proper house guest meant that I didn't grab a fork to join in with the little orchestra that the dwarves had started. Instead, I drummed a sporadic tune on the table with my palms as I joined in with the song.

"Blunt the knives, bend the forks

Smash the bottles and burn the corks

Chip the glasses and crack the plates

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Cut the cloth, tread on the fat

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat

Pour the milk on the pantry floor

Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl

Pound them up with a thumping pole

When you're finished, if they are whole

Send them down the hall to roll

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

I couldn't help but think Gandalf's earlier observations to Bilbo about the dwarves had been correct. The dwarrow made for a merry little gathering. The hobbit couldn't see it now, far too lost in his own sensitivities, but in time he would come to enjoy the rambunctious nature of the dwarves. The deep laughter that came so easily to each of the bearded men was infectious, drawing unbidden chuckles from my lips. My heart wanted to just be a part of the gang - to enjoy myself, for I would only get to experience this for a few short months if Gandalf somehow talked Thorin into letting me come along. But I found it just as difficult to let go as the hobbit did.

My life as an office worker had just about stripped everything from me that made me who I was. Before my job I had been so full of life, the tomboy that had been happy to get herself dirty and tell off-colour jokes with the lads. But the longer I had been in that stuffy office, the more uptight I had become. The glamorous ladies I worked with had often lamented my behaviour, had even asked the boss to request that I dress and act a little more ladylike. At first I had fought back, saying that how I dressed had no impact on how I performed my job, but day by day I had slowly become one of them - another prim and proper lady.

Three loud thuds echoed through the Simal, drawing all attention to the front door, and quietness descended upon all those that inhabited the home. The thought of seeing the one that had made the knocking filled me with both excitement and nerves. Would Thorin look exactly like his movie counterpart? Oh, lord preserve me if he did! Kili was handsome enough, but his uncle? That was a different kettle of fish, and I suddenly wished that I hadn't been brought here once again. Maybe I could slink out of the meeting once the attentions of the Dwarves and Wizard were distracted by their plans to retake Erebor? That way I wouldn't have to stare at Thorin, and then Gandalf wouldn't be able to enlist me in his shenanigans.

"He is here,"

Gandalf got to his feet and disappeared toward the front door. The dinning room now so quiet that I could hear the hinges of the door creaking as it opened. My eyes lowered to the table as I strained my ears, trying to make out what was being said by the pair, but all I could hear was the familiar tone of Gandalf's voice with another more baritone voice responding. The sounds of chairs scrapping on the floor told me that several of the dwarrow had rushed off to greet their leader. I could just see it now, Balin grinning in relief that an old friend had arrived safely, Dwalin nodding in his own respectful way though his head did not lower as much as his brethren, and Ori dipping into a low respectful bow.

"... found it all if it had not been for the mark on the door,"

Thorin's voice became clearer as he stepped into the Simal proper, his accent somewhat more noticeable than his nephews, and I finally noted that it was one thing the movies could not convey - just how different the dwarven dialect was to anything in the modern world. This was something my Gaelic ancestors might have had, a way of speaking long lost to the ages, and I pushed myself to my feet despite myself so I could make my way into the hallway. Bilbo also had the same idea, for his head bobbed slightly in front of me as he pushed through the bulky bodies of his guests to complain wearily to Gandalf once again.

"There was no mark on that door I painted it a week ago,"

"There is a mark, I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins, may I introduce the leader of our company Thorin Oakenshield,"

I slipped my body in between that of Balin and Dwalin as introductions were being made, and set my eyes on this very real Thorin for the first time. A mass of black wavy hair tumbled down his back, the barest hint of silver drifting through his locks being the only sign that this dwarrow was older than he might seem. Rich clothing bedecked his body, a visual reminder that while he might have no kingdom, this man was still a king in his own right, and would no doubt expect a certain amount of respect to be displayed toward him. My body leaned to the right with a slight twist as I tried to get a look at his face, only getting the barest hint of carefully maintained beard before an odd sensation traversed my body.

If someone asked me to describe what I felt I would not even know where to start. I felt as if I had been hit by lightning, a momentary flash of light followed by piercing sweltering heat that flushed my body from head to toe, and yet I felt no pain. Rather, I would describe it as an almost pleasant sensation, which was entirely bizarre given that such an occurrence would normally have me calling the emergency number in full conviction that I was having a stroke or something. As the sensation passed it filled me with a sudden sensation of belonging and family, as if this world was the one I should have been in all this time, and I felt that slight unease drifting back into me again at just how quick my feelings to the world had changed.

All it had taken was one stupid look at Thorin.

Perhaps this was some spell that Gandalf had cast on me? Something that would trigger upon seeing the dwarven king. How else would he guarantee that I would go on this quest willingly? The hot sensation returned, focused on my cheeks as Thorin turned to look at me with a surprised expression on his face - as if something had happened that he had not expected. Well, this was unexpected. He'd not been told that there would be an unknown woman at what was essentially a top secret meeting of his kin. This was for the ears of them and them alone, not for some silly human woman that might go squealing their business for all and sundry to hear.

"You did not tell me there would be a woman here."

Thorin's voice was a mixture of barely veiled discontent, something that didn't seem to bother Gandalf too much, for the wizard still looked mighty pleased with himself for bringing us all together.

"My apologies. May I introduce my companion, Grace Walker. She is gifted healer, translator, also has some skills as a seer."

I gave the wizard my best stink eye. I didn't want the company to be constantly questioning me about the future the whole damned time! Stupid wizard, why couldn't he have said that I was just a healer or something. It was true enough that I had some healing skills; I was the certified first aider of the office after all. But, that knowledge felt woefully inadequate given what the company would face during the journey to Erebor. As for speaking other languages ... I guess I could pass my knowledge of the movie script off as speaking another language, but that didn't mean that I could speak any of the languages in this world fluently.

"You made me a promise Gandalf - that I would be a healer and translator only. I only see possible futures… I can't predict anything with any certainty."

Gandalf at least had the nerve to look guilty for throwing me up shit creek with no paddle, but only for a brief couple of seconds. I knew that he was just doing things that he felt were benefitting the entire world, but I still couldn't help but feel that the wizard was just moving me about like some pawn. As if I had no self will or desires of my own. Thorin made a low grunt, as if this was acceptable to him - or maybe he was just putting this argument aside for later so he could turn his attentions on Bilbo, for he was already returning his eyes to the hobbit.

"This is the Hobbit. Tell me Mr Baggins have you done much fighting? Axe or Sword, what's your weapon of choice?"

The hobbit bobbed his head about proudly, a broad grin on his face as he responded to the question in the most 'hobbit' way one could imagine - my heart aching for just how innocent the little fellow was and that such innocence will soon be lost in the wilds of the world.

"Well, I have some skill at conkers, if you must know. I cannot see why that's relevant,"

A pair of thick arms wrapped around Thorin's chest and my annoyance at the wizard evaporated, replaced instead with thoughts of those muscular arms wrapped around my body. To be lost within that save cocoon and not have to worry about the world. Oh, how wondrous that would be. It had been a long time since I'd dated anyone, and even then it hadn't gone past a few awkward first dates. I had never managed to find anyone that I clicked with, and I'd long accepted that maybe I never would find someone to spend my life with. Now here I was in middle earth crushing over a man that would never even look my way ... life just couldn't get any worse.

"Thought as much. He looks like a grocer, more than a burglar."

Wanting very much to stand up for the poor hobbit, I slipped out from between Balin and Dwalin so I could stand beside Bilbo. Now that I was in front of Thorin, I was once again struck by how handsome he was. His dark hair fell in waves around his face, held back by two subtle braids fastened by a pair of very plain silver cuffs. A pair of stormy grey eyes looked down upon me, the barest hints of darker brown and black flecked in the iris, and I got the impression of being stood on a cliff staring up into storm laden clouds. His beard was much thicker than I had originally thought at first glance, carefully trimmed and unlike his hair there was not a strand of silver to be found - as if his aging did not yet dare to touch his face. Somehow I found my voice, though it sounded very far away, as if my body still yet stood on that cliff vulnerable to the whim of the storm that rumbled above.

"In every scenario laid out before me, the hobbit will step up to the mark and be the best burglar you could ever ask for,"

If Gandalf wanted me to behave like a 'fortune teller' then I would damn well act like one. Poor Bilbo looked horrified by my words, but at least it got Thorin to leave him alone, the dwarrow already departing into the dining room so that the meeting could begin.

I hated this, hated every part of what I now had to do, and once again wished I was back home wrapped up in my blankets. At least there I didn't have to be Mystic Fucking Meg to a bunch of dwarves and an infuriating wizard.


	6. The Meeting (Part 1)

The sounds of the dwarves talking drifted from the dinning room, tempting me to listen in to the meeting being held, to watch history as it was being made. But I didn't go to watch. What was the point when you had already seen it in the movie a dozen times over? Instead, I made a better use of my time by searching Bilbo's pantry for some food for Thorin. The dwarven leader will be starving, and it wasn't as if any of his kin had kept him a plate - greedy fucks. I shook my head and wondered if their mother's would be proud of them if they could see them now?

Yes, they probably would.

Dwarves probably had a much different idea about what was acceptable, they'd not been brought up in my strict family - I could still remember the sharp rap on the arm my Nan would give me if I dared to put my elbows on the table. My heart sank as I realised I would never see my Nan again. Of all the members of my family, it was her I was closest to. She might have been strict, but that didn't mean that I hated her for it! For every terrible memory I had of her, I had three good ones to make up for it. My eyes watered as I tried not to think about the last time she'd sneakily placed a twenty-pound note in my hand and beseeched me not to tell my mother about it.

I wondered what my family thought had happened to me. Did they think I was dead? A shiver ran down my spine as I scanned Bilbo's shelves. The feeling very much made me think of the phrase 'like someone had walked on your grave', as if I was no longer part of a world I had once loved, and yet still somehow connected enough to feel as if people where talking about me. Maybe they were? It filled me with some small comfort that perhaps I had not been forgotten as I reached out for what little remained of a meat pie.

Normally I would find it hard to pick out food for someone I didn't know that well, but for some bizarre reason it was easy to pick something out for Thorin. It was as if I was compelled to grab certain food items, drawn to them like a moth to a candle flame. A buttered bread roll was added shortly to the plate, followed by a healthy serving of air-dried sausages and what looked suspiciously like a pork pie. I wondered what other 'earth' foods I would find in middle earth? Hopefully, enough that I would not upset my digestive system too much in the coming days. I let out a grunt that sounded too much like one that Thorin would make, lamenting that there was way too much meat on the plate - but I had to remember this was food for a dwarf.

He was all muscle and needed the protein.

Not wanting to think too much about what this all meant, I grabbed a tankard of mead with my free hand and slipped out of the pantry. I still didn't know if I wanted to go on this journey with them - knew all too well the dangers that awaited on the road. I also didn't know just HOW much of this written history Gandalf wanted me to change. I knew that I wanted to affect the family dynamic of the dwarven royal family, but beyond that? My mind told me I shouldn't be doing anything to prevent what had happened, whilst my heart begged me to prevent every death that would come to pass in the battle of five armies. Maybe later on in the night I could pull Gandalf aside and have a conversation with him about it.

"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals."

Bofur's voice reached my ears first as I stepped through the large doorway and into the dinning room proper. I hadn't missed as much of the meeting as I believed I had. I glanced at Gandalf just long enough to catch him throwing me a cheeky wink as I lowered the plate and mead in front of Thorin. The grumpy dwarf let out a low grunt, his chin resting on his fingers and eyes remaining fully focused on the group of dwarves that sat around the table. It was about as much thanks as I would ever get from him, and I took it for what it was.

I stepped back and rested my body against the wall to the right of Bilbo, who still looked to be in shock. And I didn't entirely blame him - he'd had a hell of a day. He wasn't the only one, I still felt like I was processing this unknown world. Who would have thought I would find myself transported to a place where dragons existed? And not just dragons! Orcs, Trolls, Goblins, Wargs, and all manner of horrible beasties that would kill me as soon as they looked at me. A wave of terror crept up the back of my neck, making me close my eyes to fight back against this newest shock to my system and opening them to catch Thorin giving me a concerned look at the corner of his eyes.

Nope, I imaged that!. Why would Thorin concern himself with the wellbeing of a human woman that wasn't an official part of his troop? Bilbo let out a sound that I couldn't quite translate, his arms crossed over his chest as once again an offended look settled on his young features.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is!"

Of course, Bilbo knew what a dragon was. For a hobbit he seemed very well educated about the world beyond Hobbiton, even if he didn't want to be a part of that world. The sound of chair legs scrapping against the floor accompanied the quick movements of Ori as he jumped to his feet, cheeks flushed and an enthusiastic smile on his face as he made some rather violent movements with his arms.

"I'm not afraid. I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of dwarfish iron right up his Jacksy!"

A loud cheer erupted around the table at the youngster's enthusiasm, and I was buoyed up along with the confidence of the dwarf - how could one not feel you could win such a battle with such passion coming from a member of the group that had probably never seen war before in his life. Dwarves didn't seem to know what the word 'fear' meant. They all had this steely look of confidence in their faces that said they were not afraid to face this terrible beast. Dori gently pulled Dori back down to his chair as Balin cut through the cheering with a light tap of his fist upon the table - drawing attention back to the matter at hand.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."

Oh boy, he could have chosen his words better there! Even if I had not seen the movies, I would have easily predicted what would happen next. Ori's offended yelp and growled, 'Hey! Who are you calling dim?' starting a loud argument that almost drew the entire group into it! Poor Dori looked as if he would very much like a hole in the earth to swallow him up at that very moment, so he didn't have to be at the centre of the commotion.

"We may be few in number. But we're fighters, all of us! To the last dwarf!"

Fili, like Ori, had an immense amount of confidence, his voice oozing with conviction that this battle had already been won. Kili was right beside him, slamming his palm to the table as if suddenly remembering something and making a motion in Gandalf's direction.

"And you forget we have a wizard in our company, Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in this time!"

Oh dear, poor Gandalf. The capabilities of wizards had been highly exaggerated over the years it seemed. He let out a few startled sounds at having such a question directed at him, and looking very much like he did not know how to respond to such a claim. 

"Oh, well. No, uh, I ... I wouldn't say ..."

Why didn't he just come out and be honest by saying none, because I wasn't sure if he had killed any dragons at all. What was Gandalf's history, anyway? I had never read the Silmarillion, the book being far too wordy for my attention span, and I felt very uneducated regarding what exactly the wizard was capable of. He was clearly a powerful user of magic, but just what could he do with that power? I didn't know, and it didn't seem like anyone else did either. My thoughts drifted away for a moment musing on the power of wizards and snapping back into attention just as Dori once again stuck his foot in his mouth.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!"

The sounds of shouting erupted around the table once again. The sudden sound causing a spike in my anxiety as my senses became overwhelmed. I knew exactly what would happen, yet I wasn't quite prepared for just how claustrophobic I would suddenly feel in that moment, and I took a step backward, although I couldn't retreat any further backward. I wasn't supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to be listening to any of this, and all I wanted was for the shouting to stop. I was vaguely aware of Bilbo's soft whisper's of 'please, please' as he too begged for this to be other, then over all the noise came the gruff voice of Thorin as he shouted out over the arguing voices of his kin.

"ENOUGH!"

His voice brought me back down from the edge of a panic attack as silence descended upon the room. My heart still hammering in my chest as I opened my eyes to see the gruff king now standing upright with his palms flat on the table. His eyes were partially narrowed in disappointment and annoyance, as if he expected better from the dwarves he had gathered here today.

"If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look East to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?"

"You forget the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain"

Balin sounded almost depressed, his head dropping to look at the surface of the table. The desire to say something and bring back some measure of happiness to these poor displaced people slunk it's way into my heart. My way back home was gone, but they still yet had a way back to theirs.

"That's not entirely true. There is another way in"

I felt the eyes of a dozen dwarves suddenly turning on me and I suddenly wished I had said nothing at all. What had I gotten myself into now? I looked pleadingly to Gandalf, making nervous gestures with my hands as if hoping that the wizard would say something so I didn't have everyone looking at me. Gandalf just didn't take the hint!

"Just ask Gandalf. He knows what I'm taking about"

Yup, that did it! A sudden look of understanding crossed his face, and he reached into an inner pocket of his robes to pull out a large key. It didn't at look at all like something that would open the door to a grand fortune, I expected to see something more ... elaborate? The key was made of a very dull grey metal that looked like Iron or maybe even steel, with a minimal amount of geometric runes carved into the sides. The reaction from Thorin was instant, his brows raised and lips pursed in surprise at seeing an heirloom of his people in the hands of a wizard.

"How came you by this?"

His voice was a whisper, as if not sure if he was really seeing the key after so many years of thinking it had been lost. Gandalf extended the key toward the dwarf with the upmost reverence, a pained smile crossing over the edges of his lips

"It was given to me by your father Thrain, for safekeeping, It is yours now"

Thorin still looked as if he had a dozen questions to ask the wizard, questions that I knew had painful answers. The dwarf lowered back into his chair, pulling his plate towards him to finally start eating the meal I had brought to him.

"If there is a key, there must be a door"

Fili looked delighted with this new development, his lips widening into a broad smile. Gandalf gave a nod of his head as he pointed toward the map, his fingers moving to rest on a set of bright red runes that had been intricately painted onto the parchment. I didn't need to read the ancient runes of the world to know what they said. How many times had I read the books and watched the movies now? I was thinking it even as Gandalf spoke of what they said.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls".

It always surprised me that the dwarves didn't know about this passage, but I guessed they had forgotten a lot about Erebor … heck, I tended to forget what I had done a week ago, let alone what I might forget over the space of 60 years. A secret door might easily be something the dwarves had long forgotten about. I watched as Kili leaned forward in his chair, elbowing his brother and giving him a wide toothy grin

"There is another way in!"

Gandalf was quick to quash the building hope of the two youngsters with a heavy dose of reality, his head lowering slightly to watch the pair from under the rim of his hat.

"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it, but there are others in Middle-Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar!"

Ori's realisation caused the group to look at Bilbo who hadn't yet twigged on that it was him they were talking about, poor fellow - Gandalf had dragged yet another unsuspected soul onto his chessboard without even asking if that playing piece if they were happy to play a part in his game.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, just wishing that this night would soon be over.


	7. The Meeting (Part 2)

I settled further back into the wall of the Simal as I kept my eyes on the delighted expression on Bilbo's youthful face. Poor hobbit didn't even know that his entire world was about to collapse on him. The young hobbit had a toothy smile on his face, both hands holding to his braces as if very pleased himself for finally being able to be a productive part of the conversation instead of a passive stander by in his own home. My weight shifted ever so slightly from one foot to the other, trying to take some pressure from my aching feet, and scanning the crowded room for a free chair and finding none available.

I knew I could just as easily leave and go sit somewhere else in the Simal, but now that I had gate-crashed the meeting I could not easily tear myself away from the room. It was like a trashy soap opera on television once you where invested you had to keep watching right to the very end of the show.

"Hmmm. And a good on too. An expert, I'd imagine."

I wondered if Bilbo even knew where he would find a burglar if the dwarves asked him where to find such a person. The hobbit still looked mighty pleased as his eyes went from one dwarf to the other, finally putting aside his frustrations for the moment that they had just eaten him out of house and home. Gloin, whom had been quiet for most of the meeting, lifted a questioning brow, looking so much like this son from The Lord of the Rings trilogy that I almost forgot who it was looking at a brief moment.

"And are you?"

His voice was gruff and low, as if someone had carved it out of the mountain itself as he questioned the poor hobbit that had finally figured out he was the burglar that was being discussed. Bilbo's lips opened and closed like a fish that had just been pulled out of water, a few spluttered words tumbling from him before he finally regained enough composure to respond.

"Am I what?"

Poor fellow didn't look so happy anymore to be the centre of attention - especially because he was being 'volunteered' for some kind of dangerous journey. Oin pointed in the general direction of Bilbo with one hand, the other adjusting the position of his hearing horn so it could more easily pick up what was being said at the head of the table. I wished I could have brought some of my modern world's technology with me. A hearing aid would have made such a difference in Oin's life, would have made things so much easier for him. And I wondered if there was a way I could replicate that technology when I finally got to Erebor. Fuck sake, I hadn't even left the shire yet, and here I was already thinking about what to do when the journey had finally finished.

"He said he's an expert."

Bilbo looked at Gandalf in growing horror, waving both arms in front of him in a gesture that was very familiar to me since I had done it more than a few times already to ward off unwanted attention over the last few days. Bilbo wanted absolutely nothing to do with this, was it not already bad enough that a group of total strangers had invaded his home with absolutely no warning.

"Me? No! No, No, No! I ... I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life."

The hobbit didn't much look like a burglar, but I knew exactly what it was Gandalf saw in Bilbo. Gandalf saw potential, that somewhere under the surface was a brave hobbit that would come to love adventure. And, as for me? I didn't know what Gandalf saw in me. I felt neither brave nor ready for any kind of adventure in the wilderness, and I didn't feel like I would be of use to the company. Perhaps in time I would figure out what he had seen deep within my soul, but until then I had to take courage because Gandalf had belief in me to do well on this journey - that I would eventually come to find my purpose.

Balin sighed, an indistinct sound that seemed to linger in the air as he sat back in his chair. His thick arms crossed over his broad chest and his head shook at the sight of the hobbit that now looked tiny compared to the much taller dwarves - heck, he even seemed small compared to me as the poor hobbit attempted to shrink out of view. I had never considered myself terribly tall, even Thorin was taller than me by a good few inches based on what little interaction I had with him, but I felt a lot smaller than I used to be, especially compared to someone like Gandalf who towered a whole head and shoulders above everyone else in the room.

"And I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material."

I could feel a pair of piercing eyes settle on me and I turned just in time to see Dori looking at me with a delighted grin just visible on his lips. I flushed under the intense scrutiny of the dwarf, hoping beyond hope that I wouldn't be brought back into this again, but that silent prayer wasn't to be answered today.

"But the Lady Walker said he would be the best burglar we could ever ask for."

His words were true enough, I had said Bilbo would be the best burglar they could hope for and I felt bad that my words were now being used by Dori to convince the others that Bilbo was the perfect addition of the crew. Poor Bilbo looked sickly pale and beyond terrified, wide brown eyes occasionally darting to the doorway as if he hoped to flee the room without being noticed.

The clash of views on if Bilbo was or was not a burglar started another loud argument, voices raising as once again as the company split into different factions.

Some were loudly proclaiming that they did not believe the words of a seer, especially when they could see for their damned selves that this hobbit clearly wasn't a burglar. It was plainly obvious that he was terrified, and it would be better to leave him in the hole where they had found him. The older and wiser among the group argued in favor of taking the hobbit. Had it not already taken months to get this far? Surely there was now no time to find anyone better to fill the role. Perhaps it was worth taking a risk on the hobbit regardless of how pathetic he looked. I could even hear some muttering to themselves that they could be perfectly good burglars if given the chance, and I tried not to laugh at the idea of a dwarf trying to sneak a pile of gold out from under Smaug's nose. The anxiety threatened to peak within me once again as the shouting continued, however this time it was Gandalf that saved me from tumbling down that spiralling attack.

"Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is! Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose, and while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of a dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him. Which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There is a lot more to him then appearances suggest. And he has a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself."

Gandalf looked to Thorin after that, fixing him with a look that beseeched the dwarf to listen to reason. I didn't much take Thorin to be the sort that would agree to something like this, the surely dwarf having remained silent for the greater part of the argument, and there was only the slightest evidence on his face that this whole situation disappointed him greatly.

"You must trust me on this."

Thorin grunted, finishing up the slice of pie on his plate, and taking a long swig of the mead to give himself a moment to contemplate everything the wizard had said before letting out a long-suffering sigh. Much like his companions, the exiled king knew that he didn't have any choice in this, Gandalf had made his position very clear on the matter, and time was not on their side. It was this, or nothing at all, and Thorin would not allow himself to walk away from this quest empty handed.

"Very Well. We'll do it your way."

I chanced a look back at Bilbo. The poor hobbit had gone even paler than he had been minutes before, though I wasn't entirely sure that was possible. The small male was muttering under his breath softly, hoping perhaps someone might listen to his urging to not be a part of this, and the dwarves were not paying any attention at all. Thorin was already waving toward Balin with his free hand, the silvered metal of a ring flashing in the light as he then gestured absentmindedly toward the Hobbit.

"Give him a contract."

I wanted so badly to tell Thorin that, like me, the poor Hobbit hadn't exactly consented to any of this - not them being in his house, not them eating his food, and not going on some adventure into the dangerous wilds of the world. However, I kept my mouth firmly shut because I knew Bilbo would come to change his mind in the morning, anyway. He was a Took, after all. His curious nature would eventually win over all the other misgivings and fears he currently had about this trip. Balin got to his feet, pulling an enormous pile of yellowed parchments from his satchel, and to my surprise he handed both me and Bilbo a carefully folded contract each. I hadn't expected that there would be one for me; Thorin had only been told to expect one other person to join them - not two. Balin gave me a wink and motioned with his head toward Gandalf. Ah, so the wizard had forewarned him that something like this might happen.

It was another reminder that the wizard was and always would be two steps ahead of me - I'd have to keep on my toes to keep any semblance of control over my fate with him around. He was like a meddling mother, all too happy to poke his nose into things and prod his brood in any direction that took his whim.

"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth."

It was all very official, Balin had every situation covered by the sound of it. I unfolded the smooth parchment, scanning the beautiful calligraphy work of whoever had written this contract. It wasn't written in an English language that I fully recognised, but I didn't need to know what it said to know what the contract involved - I'd paused this scene more than a few times out of curiosity to see if the prop makers for the movie had written a full length document, or if it was just all random words to make it look like the real deal. The contract in the movie had been accurate to real life, or at least the parts of it they had shown in the close-up scenes. I could hear Bilbo letting out a squeaked 'Funeral arrangements?' followed by a deflated 'oh' as he finally opened his own lengthy contract that seemed almost as tall as him and started silently to read.

That I might die on this trip didn't worry me as much as I thought it might, it wasn't like my family would know and there wasn't anyone here to mourn my passing. The company was being more than thoughtful by making sure that a funeral would be provided for me should I fall in battle - even if that burial was a stone mound in the wild lands of an endless landscape I had yet to fully experience. It showed they cared, that they would attempt to do more than just leave my body in a ditch somewhere, and that knowledge reassured me that the dwarves were an honourable sort that I could trust with my life.

"Total's case on delivery, up to but not exceeding, one fifteenth of total profit if any … seems fair. The present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a result thereof, including but not limited to lacerations, evisceration … Incineration?"

Bilbo looked to Balin as if looking for confirmation that he had read the contract correctly. He had that same sickly pale look as he had before, eyes wide, and once again I felt sorry for him. I knew what to expect from this expedition, had seen the movies a dozen times over, but this innocent soul did not understand what he was being dragged into. It didn't help when Bofur leaned closer to the hobbit with a toothy grin, the earflaps of his felt hat bobbing as he nodded his head with each of his words.

"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye."

Bofur tilted his head ever so slightly as if taking in for the first time just how pale the Hobbit was, either dwarves where incredibly inobservant to the discomfort of others, or they were so used to their own fearless company that the idea someone like Bilbo might find the idea of a dragon to be terrifying had never crossed his mind before now.

"You alright, laddie?"

Bilbo blinked owlishly, his body swaying from one side to the other as the panic raised in his system. He seemed to focus on Bofur, but the poor hobbit wasn't seeing him at all - his eyes unfocused and staring blankly at a wall on the far side of the room as he shakily responded to Bofur.

"Huh? Yeah, I ... I feel a bit faint."

I shoved my body away from the wall at that proclamation, already knowing what was about to happen. I didn't even need to have watched the movie to know an incoming panic attack when I saw one, heck I'd even had a few of them myself - the overpowering feeling of dread and the utter helplessness as all blood seemed to leave your body. The poor male was a few seconds away from a dead faint and I wanted to be near enough to the hobbit to stop him collapsing to the ground because the last thing Bilbo needed was to hit his head and get a concussion.

"Thin furnace, with wings. Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! Your nothing more than a pile of ash."

Bilbo blinked again, his body swaying all the more as he struggled to remain upright. Then his eyes rolled upward and his legs gave out under his weight. I reached him just in time to slip my arms in under his armpits, catching his body before he dropped too far, and finding myself struggling under his weight. Bilbo was small, but by heck was he heavy! It had to be all those extra meals that hobbits ate. I let out a puff of air as I lowered his body to the ground, supporting the dead weight of the hobbit as I looked up at Bofur who still had that stupid smile on his face.

"You could see he was uncomfortable. Why did you feel the need to torment the poor soul?."

I knew Bofur was just being bluntly honest with the Hobbit, letting him know exactly what a dragon could do to you if it wished, but that didn't mean I had to be happy with him for putting more terrifying thoughts into the hobbit's head when he had already stated that he felt faint. Bofur gave me a little shrug, eyes sparkling playfully as he stepped forward to help me drag the hobbit out of the dinning toom and into a small seating area just beyond it.

It was only thanks to the dwarf's strength that I could guide the hobbit into one of the plush chairs that was placed near a crackling fireplace, only leaving the hobbit's side once Gandalf came in the check the hobbit was okay. Gandalf was no medic, but as a wizard he seemed more qualified to deal with this kind of thing, then I was. The smile on Bofur's face slowly faded away as he watched the wizard tending to the hobbit, as if for the first time realising just how grave the situation was, and then turning me with a guilty expression on his face.

"Was just being honest. It's only right he knows what he's signing up for … you too, miss. You sure you want to do this?"

Did I want to do this? In all honesty, I still wasn't sure that I wanted to go, and nor was I entirely sure I could say no now that I had been given the chance to go on this grand adventure. It was dangerous, sure, but it was also exciting - a chance to do something no other person from my world would ever have the chance to, to see the world of Middle Earth with my own two eyes. For the first time it replaced my anxiety and concerns with a genuine sense of excitement that bubbled away in both my heart and stomach. I gave the dwarf a firm nod of my head, returning to the dinning area where I had dropped my contract while in my rush to grab Bilbo.

"Gandalf has already made me very aware of the dangers I would face on this journey, that I might not even come out of this alive, and to be frankly honest I wouldn't have already come this far if I did not want to do this."

That was a lie. Gandalf had told me jack shit about this world, all the things I knew came from the books and the movies. Nor had the wizard given me much of a choice, but it felt nice that at least Bofur was attempting to make sure this was what I wanted to do. I made a motion for Balin to hand over a quill; the object feeling foreign in fingers used to holding a plastic ball-point pen and carefully signed the parchment. My penmanship left a lot to be desired, a scrawling mess of chicken scratch my high school teachers would be appalled by, but at least I had signed the contract and was now an official member of the company. Balin and Bofur both gave me polite nods of their heads and retreated into a dark room to the right, leaving me alone once more, so I returned to the hallway where Gandalf was still tending to Bilbo.

This was about a good a chance I had as any to ask the wizard about what I was supposed to do in this world. He wanted me to be a seer, to use my knowledge of the books and movies to make a real difference in this world - but what kind of change was I supposed to implement in a story that in my eyes was flawless?. I lowered my body into the chair opposite Bilbo's my eyes focusing on one of the pure white doilies that rested on the arm of his chair. How did I even put into words what I wanted to ask? It all felt so clunky in my head. I was not some skilled speaker, never had been, but somehow I formulated a question that made some kind of sense.

"If you're going to have me be a seer, then I need to know exactly what I can tell them safely without fear of completely ruining the established history of the world,"

I watched as Gandalf pressed the back of his hand against the forehead of the hobbit, eyes never leaving the painfully youthful face of Bilbo who had yet to come round from fainting. Was that normal? He should have awakened by now. Gandalf must have put a spell on the hobbit to make sure that he had a few moments longer to rest before he was pulled back into the waking world.

"By bringing you here, I've already caused a ripple in the established history of the world. I can no longer tell you what can be safely told to our dwarven company. The future that was once clear now seems foggy to my gaze, and I am no longer sure what you can safely tell them. Trust your instincts, they will never lead you astray, and all will be well. I believe that two lives that where once lost could be saved should you find the right path to follow."

I sunk back into the chair at his words. I could save two lives? But three members of Thorin's party had died in the battle of five armies. There would be a point where I would have to make a choice about who should live, and who should die. How did someone make a choice like that? I had not known them for long, had not yet formed a bond of firm friendship with any of the company, and yet I already felt I could not make that tough choice. Gandalf gave me a pained smile as if once again reading my thoughts, pulling his hand away from Bilbo's forehead as the hobbit's eyes fluttered open, taking with them any chance to continue my conversation with Gandalf.

Any bravery I might have felt was gone, now replaced with an overwhelming sensation of dread that lingered with me for the rest of the night.


	8. Grief for what has been lost

"Wake up."

The voice was insistent, a constant jabbing stick at the edge of my consciousness as I fought to stay in my nice cosy dreams of basking on a glorious sun-drenched beach somewhere in the Bahamas. I swatted at the person who was trying to wake me up, rolling over on to my front and tugging the covers up over my head in protest. The motion exposed my feet to the chilly morning air, earning another groan of shear frustration from me as I tried to pull them under the too short sheet.

"Five more minutes, Harriet. It's Sunday, You know I don't work Sundays."

My sleep addled brain completely forgot that I was in Middle-Earth. As far as it was concerned I was back at home being pestered by my Sister, I heard a huff as whomever was in the room with me took a step closer and tugged at the sheets earning a shriek from me as the cold air assaulted my body. I was immediately glad of the fact that I had left on my tank top and panties while sleeping as it was not Harriet waking me up after all! My sleepy brain snapping back into sharp focus as my eyes settled on the large figure of Gandalf standing over me.

"What the actual fuck. Do you have any sense of decency?!"

Gandalf was smiling at me, completely oblivious to my anger as he dropped the pile of clothes that had been carrying in his arms onto the bed. He at least had the decency to keep his eyes focused on a spot just above my head, his now free hand reaching into his robes and pulling out his pipe. Within seconds the room was filled with the scent of tobacco, making my nose wrinkle as I was still not entirely used to the putrid smell yet.

"Apologies Miss Walker. Thorin insists that we should be on the road before the sun rises proper. I have taken the time to acquire you some clothes while you where sleeping, they won't be a great fit, but at least they will keep you warm."

He threw a cheeky wink my way and then left the room, leaving me to my thoughts as I looked down at the pile of clothing. The pile was depressingly beige, not a single bright colour in sight, and as much as I wanted to be upset about that, I knew it made the most sense. This was practical clothing - thick and warm, and not to mention camouflaging in its nature. I doubted the dwarves would be happy if I made out lovely party a easy target by parading through middle earth in a bright red blouse.

Shaking my head, I shrugged out of my tank top, a shiver traversing my body as once again the cold pre-dawn air assaulted my skin. I stood there in my panties and bra, looking down at the top in my arms, and wondered if I would ever wear any of my old clothes again. Probably not, it wasn't like there would be any occasion where it would be deemed appropriate clothing - it revealed far too skin for the likes of the middle earth prudes. I gathered up the pile of clothing I had left on the floor the night before, bundled them up and threw them all into the smouldering embers of the fireplace. I watched with sad eyes as the growing flames consumed the fabric, fighting back tears as I turned to the new clothing that had been provided for me.

The first thing I threw on was a tan cotton blouse that was just a little too big for me. It wasn't too much of an issue given that it was easy enough to gather the shirt in at the waist and tie the ends up in a small knot, but it still left me feeling like I was putting on my dad's work shirt. The trousers where pulled on next and I couldn't help but think that Gandalf must have asked Bilbo if he could borrow some of his clothing, because the trousers were suspiciously short - definitely hobbit length! My suspicions where proven correct as I pulled them on; the trousers hit me at near enough the mid-thigh, like some kind of overly short capris. The trousers were then held in place by a rather plain leather belt and a set of smartly embroidered suspenders that Bilbo's mother had no doubt made, as I didn't take Bilbo as the sort that dabbled in needlepoint.

I lowered my body back down to the bed so I could pull on a pair of thick woollen socks; the fabric scratching the overly sensitive skin of my soles that still ached from the previous day's walk. The boots that Gandalf had gained for me at least looked better suited for walking them my flats, made of a thick leather and well worn in by their previous owner. I pulled them on, pleased to find that the boots were just high enough that I could tuck the trousers into them to keep my legs warm on the journey. My eyes focused on the boots for a long moment, my toes wiggling as I tested them to make sure they fit okay and only getting back up once I was sure they would be comfortable.

"Guess I should see if there is any food left for breakfast."

As I spoke to myself, I pulled on the thick brown waistcoat and pale green outer coat that still yet remained on the edge of the bed. I had to admit that despite the itchiness of the fabric it was warm, far warmer than any of the clothes I had just burned in the fireplace. I brushed the fabric down with the palms of my hands, silently wondering just how long it would take to get used to it, and scanned the room for where I had left my purse. It was still laid on the top of the chair just to the right of the door, the fake leather glistening in the light of the fire and making the item look far fancier then it really was.

A sad smile trickled over my lips as I moved to collect it, shaking fingers flipping it over and examining the items that remained within it. A rather well-worn purse that held twenty pounds and fifty-one pence exactly, my house keys, and a couple of now very sticky mint humbugs. The cell phone that had once been snuggly placed into one of the inside pockets was gone, my fingers meeting thin air where it had once been. I had left behind so much, but it was the loss of my phone that hit far harder then everything else so far. My legs crumbled under me as the terrible reality of the world once again sunk in around me. I was in stuck in a world not my own, with no way to ever return home, and I didn't even have the comfort of being able to pull out my phone and see the faces of my family.

Every regret I ever had in life rushed me all at once. I wished I had not argued so venomously with my sister two days prior about the priceless vase she had broken. I wished I had kept my promise and had actually taken my mother out one last time instead of allowing myself to be called into work to cover a sick co-worker's shift. I wished I had put one last bunch of flowers on my grandparents' grave. I wished a lot of things, wishes that I knew could now never be answered and might now haunt me for the rest of my life in middle-earth … however long that might be.

At least I had the macabre reassurance that life expectancy in middle-earth was fairly short for someone of my inferior status. I was in my mid-twenties, positively middle-aged by this world's standards and not likely to last beyond my forties - it wouldn't be long before I was reunited with my family in heaven. This was of course if I survived the journey, which was no guarantee given how desperate the battle to survive would soon become. No … Gandalf seemed very sure that it was my fate to somehow save lives, therefore it was guaranteed that I would survive up to and maybe shortly after the battle of five armies.

"Come on, Grace, pull yourself together. They wouldn't want you to mope."

Somehow I pushed myself to my feet, carefully tucking my purse into one of the inner pockets of the jacket that had been loaned to me. While burning my clothing had been easy, I still felt a sense of nostalgic attachment to the purse - the only physical reminder that I now had from my past life if you didn't count my undergarments. It's comforting pressure against my abdomen was a salve I hadn't known that I desperately needed right now, and that warmth carried me out of Bilbo's guest bedroom and into the Simal proper.

Dark shadows lingered in every hall, now only lit by candles that had burnt down to the tiniest nub, and for a moment I thought that I had missed my chance and the dwarves had left whilst I was still contemplating my misfortunes. Then I heard a low murmuring of voices that was more akin to a rumble than anything else. It was a sound that I now distinctly knew belonged to the dwarves of Erebor. A half smile threatened to cross my lips as the sensation of being part of a family filled me again, an unsettling sensation that I wasn't entirely sure I wanted.

They were dwarves, and I was human, brought together out of temporary agreement to work together as one group. Once this was all over, I highly doubted they would want me to stick around, I'd probably be waved off to live among my kind in Dale.. or maybe even further afield. The idea that I might have to leave them some day left me feeling ill at ease. It was not normal to feel this way at all - to have this sudden feeling of attachment to a people that I barely knew was completely unlike me. I struggled to make friends at the best of time, and now here I was thinking the dwarves where family. 

Fuck, what the heck had Gandalf done to me?

This had to be the doing of some kind of spell that he had cast on me, there was no other explanation for it. Maybe later tonight I could make him remove it, because I would happily help the dwarves on their journey. I didn't need to feel compelled to do so against my will. It was with another low expulsion of a blue swear word that I turned into the living room where the dwarves had gathered. Short stocky bodies milled here and there as they gathered together their meagre belongings, mostly not even taking note that I had arrived and I was sure it would have stayed that way if it hadn't been for Bombur looking up from his bag and catching sight of me from the corner of his eyes.

"Lady Walker, good morrow. Would you like some breakfast? I saved some sausages, bacon and bread. It's not much, but it is warm and should fill your stomach sufficiently to last till we break camp for our midday meal."

The rotund male had a pair of kindly eyes and a smile that would put anyone at ease. He made a motion to a plate full of food that had been left on one of Bilbo's side tables, the faint evidence of steam rising from the plate carrying with it the smell of food - I might still be struggling emotionally to deal with this sudden change to my life, but that had not lessened my appetite in the slightest. My stomach rumbling in protest of just how empty it was despite the massive meal I had the night before. I nodded in silent thanks to Bombur, trying to ignore the sensation that I was being watched by more than a few of the dwarves in the room.

"Thank you, Bombur. That was very kind of you."

I lifted the plate from its resting place and leaned my body against the wall, knowing that there was no point in making myself comfortable given we'd likely have to leave once I had finished eating. A movement out of the corner of my eye told me that Fili had joined us, a toothy grin on his face and a curious light in his eyes that caused a fearful spike of anxiety to bloom in my gut. I could almost guess what he would ask before he even spoke, and my fears were proven all too correct the moment that he opened his lips to ask his question.

"So, Grace. Where exactly are you from? You don't sound or look like you are from around these parts?"

I couldn't exactly lie to Fili, given my interactions with him the first day we had met. So far I had gotten away with mentioning cops and cell phones without further questioning, but the young dwarf was bound to remember my odd words, eventually. I chewed thoughtfully on the day old bread that had been placed on my plate, trying to push past the slight stale edge it possessed - I could no longer afford to be picky in this world, and I was very sure that I was bound to eat much worse than this during the later parts of the journey as rations ran low. A slow smile found its way to my lips as my brain latched on to the one person who had brought me into this miserable world.

"That's because I'm not from these parts. Your delightful wizard companion wanted a Seer so badly that he decided it was a brilliant idea to steal one from another world and bring her here against her will,"

A disgruntled sound drew my attention to Thorin. The exiled king was casually stood at the doorway of the living room, arms crossed over his chest and eyes staring into the bowl of his pipe. There was a dark storm in his eyes, the only sign on his face that the Dwarf did not exactly approve of what Gandalf had done. Fili made a similar sound from beside me, and for a brief minute or two I felt bad that I had dropped Gandalf in the shit. It might be extremely petty of me to get Gandalf into trouble with the dwarves, but if it wasn't for Gandalf, then I'd have been sitting at home with my mother enjoying a nice cup of Guatemala's best coffee by now.

"So that man that attacked you and left you in the forest … that was Gandalf?"

I half turned so I could look at the infuriated expression on Fili's face. Unlike Thorin, the younger dwarf could not hide his rage under a stony mask of complete calm. I thought that I had already dropped Gandalf in the shit, but if I confirmed it had been Gandalf that had done those things ... well, Fili would probably go nuclear! I took another bite of the bread, mulling over the choice and knowing that every minute I took to respond only further confirmed Fili's suspicion of what the wizard had done. My shoulders lifted in a non-committal shrug, but I was already responding before my brain thought too much about the repercussions of my words.

"Yeah, that was Gandalf."

Fili was gone before I even reached out to prevent him from enacting whatever physical retribution he was about to give the wizard. As much as I hated Gandalf for bringing me here, and as much as I wanted him to pay for it, that didn't mean I wanted someone to hurt him in response. I shook my head with a deep sigh and placed the bowl of food on the table, my churning stomach no longer able to bear the thought of finishing my breakfast. It had been a long time since I had been so petty, but this was fast becoming a situation beyond my control and my general discomfort of the world made it almost impossible to settle my constantly on edge nerves.

Knowing there was no point staying in the simal, I moved to step out of the room, only stopping when I reached the doorway where Thorin still yet lingered. I had thought that Thorin would be the first one that would have gone out to talk some sense into his nephew, but he had yet to move after the adolescent male who was now talking in rather loud tones from somewhere outside Bilbo's home. The dwarf fixed me with a distant look, one that carefully guarded his emotions from the outside world, but I found it almost too easy to decode the concern that watered just at the very edges of his consciousness.

"Gandalf attacked you?"

Thorin's voice was low and firm, as if he didn't quite believe what he had just heard.

"As God is my witness. I thought he was one of those stalkers that my friend has been warning me about when I noticed him following me home. At first I was sure I could outpace him, but he's quicker and stronger than he looks. I remember trying to fight him off, but he must have done something to me because the next thing I know I'm waking up in the forest with Fili leant over me."

When I had first arrived I had remembered every little detail of what had happened to me, but now some parts of it felt hazy, as if I was slowly loosing my memory of it. Perhaps it had something to do with whatever spell Gandalf had cast on me - a sick reminder that the world I had once been in was fast drifting away from me. I could feel the cold sensation of tears forming at the corners of my eyes and turned away because the last thing I wanted was for Thorin to see me crying.

"He took me away from my friends and family, the only world I had ever known with no hope of return, and he didn't even ask."

My brain was once again no longer in control, emotions running free as my body reacted on instinct to reach out for the only source of comfort it recognised in this world - Thorin. The dwarf let out a low grunt as I pressed my face in to the dark folds of his outer jerkin, wanting nothing more than to hide from the world and just wishing that I would wake up from this never-ending nightmare. A warm hand was pressed between my shoulder blades, a comforting weight that kept me pressed to him, although he must feel incredibly awkward to have a woman he barely knew fling herself at him.

It was that warm weight that finally caused the tears to run free, my emotions tumbling out of control now that I no longer could control them. My entire body trembling as the sobs took over every muscle and filling me with a painful ache that I felt I might never be rid of. It was the sensation of his voice vibrating in his torso as he said something to his kin folk in Khazdul that I eventually fixated upon; it was the simplest of things, and yet it allowed me to get the painful sobbing back under control.

We were alone when I finally pulled my face from his robes, the silence of the room ringing slightly in my ears as kept my eyes on the floor as the sadness was replaced with embarrassment. The warm hand that he had once held on my back was now on my shoulder, a firm squeeze of his thick fingers being all I needed to finally look up at his face. Where once had been cold stone was now a slightly warmer expression, edged still with a concern for my well being. Thorin didn't tell me he was sorry for what the wizard had done, and nor did he ask if I was feeling okay. There was an understanding in his eyes that saying such things would not help with how I was feeling, an understanding that nothing he would say would fix what had been broken.

"Do you feel up to facing the wizard?"

His head motioned toward the direction of Bilbo's door, silently reminding me that the others were waiting outside. I didn't feel like I was ready to face the wizard, still too emotionally raw to gather the strength to even look him in the face, but I would have to be ready regardless of how I felt. I took a breath, taking in the homely scent of Bilbo's home, and made a feeble attempt at brushing down my borrowed clothing.

"I think so."

I allowed Thorin to take the lead, following in his footsteps as we made our way out of Bilbo's home and into the feeble morning sunlight of the open world that awaited us beyond the outer walls of his simal.


	9. On the road again.

Soft bird song drifted down from the treetops, a peaceful contrast to the overly tense mood of the company. To say that things had been more than a little strained since we had left Bilbo’s home was the understatement of the century. The dwarves had not spoken one word to Gandalf, and Gandalf had been content to ride at the rear of the group whist he tended to the black eye that had been given to him courtesy of Fili’s fist. The wizard was lucky not to have been given worse, since Fili had been pulled away from Gandalf by his brother before he even had time to give him a good beating. 

I should feel guilty, but I couldn’t gather enough fucks to do so. 

The soft rocking movement of the pony beneath my thighs had lulled me into a half contemplative sleep, the heavy weight of Thorin’s steadying hand on my waist providing a reassurance that I would not fall off if I drifted off into a peaceful slumber. The gruff leader of the company had insisted that I ride with him today and I had been so out of sorts that I couldn’t have said no even if I wanted to. Low vibrations rumbled from his torso and into mine as he crooned to himself in Khazdul, the low emotions that tumbled with each word making me wonder if he was singing about some lost love or maybe even his homeland.

A commotion from behind roused me from my half sleep, excited yells drifting from among the company and the sound of something heavy flying before hitting something else with a thud.

Thorin’s voice trailed off, the hand that held to the reins pulling back just enough to slow the pony, his firm body turning in the saddle to get a better look at what was going on behind us. A startled half sound left my lips as I was jolted into full awareness, my hands desperately gripping to the saddle horn to not fall backward into the male, and muttering an ‘Im awake ... honest’ that wouldn’t have even convinced my mother if she had been here.

“Can’t have two minutes’ peace without one of them causing a raucous.”

Frustration edged his rough voice, the tension palpable in the palm of his hand that still rested on my hip, and I leaned into it slightly so I could look around his broad shoulder to see what was going on. I should have known given I had seen the movie a dozen times, but it was still as surprising as ever to see the actual life events play out in front of my eyes. My unbelieving eyes watched as the dwarves threw coin purses toward a broadly grinning Kili who looked very much as if he’d just made one of the best choices in his life.

“Are they ... gambling?”

Thorin grunted an affirmative, the fingers of his hands splaying out over my side to support my weight as I tried to get a better look, and failing in his attempt to get me to sit back into the saddle.

“Yes. About the hobbit no less.”

He didn’t approve, that much was very clear. I might well have said that Bilbo would be the best burglar he would ever need, but that didn’t mean that Thorin would accept that right off the bat. The hobbit was weak and defenceless in his eyes - an unnecessary hindrance to an already dangerous journey from which there was no guaranteed return.

I didn’t have any money to place any bets on the hobbit, and would not have placed any bets if I did as that would be cheating given I already knew that Bilbo was going to join us today. My body weight adjusted to ease the stiff muscles of my lower back, sitting back fully into the saddle and patting the neck of our pony a few times to let the beast know I appreciated her efforts to carry us both.

“He will change his mind, you know. His Tookish blood won’t allow him to miss up this opportunity.”

Thorin grunted, a deep sound that resonated in his broad chest as he relaxed once more. His hand that had been splayed on my side shifted to curl somewhat round into my stomach, and I had to stop my wandering thoughts. Just a few more inches round and down and his hand would be in my lap. Oh, so close to a throbbing part of my body that was now very much aware of how much of my back was pressed up against his chest. This was not the time or place for my perverted thoughts to take a visit to the gutter.

“This journey is no place for a Hobbit. He would do well to stay at home.”

“This journey is no place for me either, but at least he gets a choice.”

The bitterness of the whole situation once again snuck up on me out of nowhere. At least Bilbo would get a choice to decide if he wanted to risk his life on this journey. Sure, I didn’t have to come on this journey, didn’t have to put myself in danger, but that choice was taken away from me the moment that Gandalf had told me I could save lives just by being here. I would never forgive myself for leaving now with that knowledge in mind. Gandalf’s words had trapped me in this journey just as firmly as his magic had trapped me in this world.

No choice remained with me now, beyond which two lives I could save.

A low snorted exhale of air left the dwarf at the reminder of what the wizard had done to me. I was fast learning that dwarves had a very strict moral code, and part of that code was that you treated your womenfolk with respect. Gandalf’s behaviour must have been beyond forgiveness to the dwarves, although I was not exactly a woman from their community. The warmth of his body behind me shifted as he leaned forward, his lips a hair’s width from the shell of my ear and I had to stop the shiver that threatened to run down my entire boy at the sensation of his breath on my skin.

“You always get a choice. Don’t let that meddling fool tell you otherwise.”

I was glad that he had sat back upright after that. If he had stayed closer to me for too much longer, then I was completely sure my panties would be a complete wet mess. This was freaking Thorin Oakenshield I was lusting after here. Fili had painted him to be this stone cold hearted leader, and yet here he was revealing a softer and more caring side of his personality. My body half shifted to look back at him, to take in the calm expression on his face - a face that revealed little of the emotions within. As I peered up at him I felt that here was a man, a king I could lay down my life for and I realised again that despite everything I had already made a choice to follow him to the very ends of the earth.

“Wait, Wait ... I signed it!”

Startled bird calls reached my ears, alarm calls heralding the arrival of the Hobbit as he ran up toward the group. The dwarf behind me letting out a frustrated sound as he tapped his knee against the side of the pony, the beast obediently turning so it spun us more towards the bulk of the company. Poor Bilbo was standing beside Balin’s mount, body half folded over himself as he struggled to catch his breath whilst Balin checked the sheet of parchment that had been handed toward him. I chanced a look at Gandalf to find the wizard was wearing another of his knowing smiles, small smoke rings rising from his lips as he lazily nursed his pipe between his lips.

Even Balin had a cheeky smile on his face, giving the hobbit an overly exaggerated wink, and lifted his roughly hewn ‘glasses’ up to his eyes so he could get a better look at the no doubt sprawling signature of the hobbit. While he was waiting, Bilbo brushed down his clothing with an annoyed huff, and gave a nod to the pony that Balin rode. I could tell that the hobbit was just a little worried he’d be told to leave the group, his weight being adjusted from one foot to the other nervously as he looked back up to the elderly dwarf who finally gave him a welcoming smile.

“Everything seems to be in order. Welcome Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

Soft laughter drifted through the company, a few offering the hobbit curt nods of their heads in as much of a welcome that the hobbit would ever get from them. The weight of Thorin moved ever so slightly behind me as he readjusted the reigns of the Pony, clearly eager to not waste any more time on such ridiculous affairs and get back on the move.

“Give him a pony.”

My fingers tightened around the saddle horn as my riding partner tapped the sides of the pony once more and spurred her back into motion. I could hear the stammering voice of the hobbit drifting away in the background as he tried to talk his way out of having to ride, and I felt sorry for the poor little fellow. He was going to have to get used to being on the open road, and part of that would mean he’d have to get comfortable riding a pony for the very first time - just like I was getting used to being on horseback for the first time.

I was getting a fairly sedate introduction to horses, because at least Thorin was handling the actual riding part of the entire process - all I had to do was hold on.

The hand that was resting on my stomach slipped away, leaving me feeling bereft of its weight as he moved it to search for something in the folds of his clothing. His arm brushing back and forth over my back as his hand tried to reach whatever it was he was looking for and then snaking back around my waist once he’d finally found the object. A heavy sack of coins was placed unceremoniously in my lap, the shaking fingers of my right hand gripping the hessian fabric even as I opened the bag with my free hand to examine the coins within.

“Holy shit.”

I had seen gold before, but never so much of it in one spot! The coins glistened in the bright morning sun as I revealed them to the light, an unfamiliar face staring back up at me from the backs of some. The face had some features that looked distinctively like those of Thorin, and I could only guess that these coins had been minted in the time of either his father or grandfather. My fingers hastily tied the sack back up, trying to push it back into his fingers but finding it pushed back into mine every time.

“Keep it. You said the hobbit would come along.”

“I’m a seer. I am not about to cheat you out of your gold Thorin!”

The sensation of a brilliant red blush made itself known to me as his hand firmly caught my own in his, his thick fingers wrapping mine around the bag as he made it more than clear that I would keep the gold, regardless. My eyes examined the silvered surface of the large ring that rested on the middle finger of his left hand, a brilliant blue stone winking back up at me from under the elaborate housing that kept it perched atop the metal. It gave me something to think about beyond the fact that he kept his hand on mine, even though I had yet to give his gold back to him.

“STOP. STOP. WE HAVE TO TURN AROUND.”

Bilbo’s voice once again interrupted proceedings, drawing another frustrated sigh from the male behind me as he pulled back on the reigns to halt our pony. I could hear Thorin’s voice muttering away in Khazdul near my right ear, the agitated tone brushing like smooth silk against my ear drums - whoever thought that an angry dwarf could sound so damned sexy? As long as it wasn’t me he was angry at, then I was content to hear him grumbling away. Him being angry at someone else was one thing, but to have that ire turned against me sent a shiver down my spine that I could not prevent.

“What on earth is the matter?”

Gandalf’s annoyed tone reached me next, reminding me that as kindly as the wizard appeared to be, even he had his darker side - a dark side I had seen way too much of.

“I forgot my handkerchief.”

Poor Bilbo had not stopped to make sure that he had everything he would need before he had set out on his journey. I saw myself in the poor hobbit, a lost being among a group of strangers that were well used to the dangers of the wilderness. Pulled into something you did not quite understand, and yet unable to stop yourself from going along. In his case, curiosity had pulled him out of the safety of his warm home. Bofur grinned, pulling at a corner of his shirt and throwing it in the hobbit’s direction, who caught the dirty object with a disgusted look on his face.

“Here. Use this.”

Low laughter drifted through the ranks of the company as the poor hobbit sniffed gingerly at the fabric.

“Move along.”

Thorin tapped the sides of our pony with his ankles, and once again we were on the move. My hands adjusted the weight of the gold, wondering what on earth I was going to do with it, and feeling rather sick at the idea of carrying so much of it on my person. I had never been poor, but neither had I held so much money in my grips either - there had to be a small fortune in the coin purse. The small purse that was pressed in against my side was way too small to carry all of it, and the only solution was to use the leather thongs to tie the bag onto by belt. It was not a safe way to carry my money, but what other choice did I have? It wasn’t as if I could deposit it in a bank.

“Do you guys ever feel unsafe carrying so much money around with you?”

The dwarf behind me made a movement that felt like he had just shrugged. 

“Never. We are the dwarves of Erebor.”

He said that as if it explained everything, and I guessed he had a point. They had a reputation, and I didn’t think there would be many people brave enough that would steal from them - they looked a vicious bunch. 

Maybe I didn’t have to worry about my money after all. Who needed a bank when you had the dwarves of Erebor to keep you and your money safe?


	10. Worries and Questions

A low groan left me as I slipped out of the saddle with the help of Thorin's steadying hand. My poor muscles absolutely ached and I had not even been in the saddle for half a day yet! Well at least I thought it was half a day, the sun was still pretty high in the sky, and Bombur had just proclaimed that we were stopping for a quick midday meal. My hands remained against the pony for support whilst I waited for the feeling to return to my legs, and I only moved once I was sure my legs were strong enough to now take my weight.

"Thank you Thorin"

I felt like it would be rude of me to not thank the Dwarrow for his help. He didn't have to do that. He offered me a smile, tilted his head slightly downward, and then was gone. I watched as he walked toward Balin and Dwalin, hands held behind his back and shoulders pulled back with perfect princely posture. The sensation of an all too full bladder made itself known to me as I made a slow walk to where Bombur was currently handing out rations, and instead diverted myself toward a small thicket of bushes only to find my progress halted by Fili.

"Do not wander too far alone m'lady"

Fuck sake, what did he think would happen to me in the middle of the borderlands of the shire? Get attacked by vicious rabbits? Besides the bush was less than three yards from the company, it wasn't as if I was having an amble in the woods or something like that. If I needed help that badly I could give a scream and I would not doubt that someone would come to help within a few short seconds of me calling for aid. My arms crossed over my chest as I stared the man dead in the eye, and tried to look intimidating despite the fact that this much larger male could easily body my much slimmer frame to the ground if he wanted to.

"I just want to have a piss. Unless you want to watch I suggest you let me have a moment's privacy"

I could see the reddening of his cheeks even under the heavy covering of blonde beard, and used his brief moment of embarrassment to push past him and continue my way toward the bushes. Once in the shielding privacy of the leaves I relieved myself of my clothing and crouched down as I wondered how one went about having a wee in the wilderness without getting it all over their pants. If I had known I'd be going on this journey I would have prepared myself a travel pack, with all the things I would need, and top of that list would have been a she-wee.

I could have pissed up the trees to my heart's content without worrying about flashing my ass to one of the men in the company.

Lack of privacy was going to be the hardest thing to get used to. It wasn't that I was a prude by any means, I'd seen my fair share of naked men and women, but I got the feeling that people were a little more reserved in this world. A low rumbling drifted from my lips as I went about my business, and thanked whatever luck I had missed my pants and grumbled again as I discovered that I would have to shake a few times.

At least I wasn't on my period yet because I had no clue what I would do when that did finally hit! It was at least a few thousand years before this world discovered the convenience of pads. My clothing was pulled back up as I decided that I would not worry about it for now, I had just finished a cycle and it would be a couple weeks at the very least before it became an issue.

I sighed, cleaning my hands as best I could on a still dew dampened leaf, and stepped out of the bush to make my return to the company. Fili was still where I left him, his back to me and his arms crossed over his body as he waited for me to be done. I wanted to be angry, but at the same time knew that this was probably about the best compromise I would ever reach with the protective dwarves around.

"Okay done. Lets go get some food, I'm starving"

My hungry stomach drew me back toward the company, and I didn't even give a look backward to see if Fili was following me. I only stopped in my short journey once I reached the main company, my body dropping on a half exposed rock next to Bombur and accepting the dried meat from the rotund male. The strip was lifted to my nose for an experimental sniff, taking in the pungent scent of smoked wood and salts, and coming to the conclusion that the closest modern day equivalent was Jerky. It was a diet I would likely have to become at least somewhat acquainted with, at least one meal of the day would end up being dried trial foods given there was no point making fire until we made camp for the night.

"How are you holding up"

I let a huff of air leave me as I chewed on the hard meat, savouring the unexpectedly good taste of the spices that had been added to it in the drying process. My body half turned so that I could look into the kindly eyes of Bombur. The large male seemed to exude a fatherly aura of general concern, his lips partially turned in a questioning manner as he siphon water from his personal water skin into a wooden cup, and then handed it toward me. I took the item with a smile, glad to have something to take the dry edge off after eating the dry trial ration.

"Well enough I suppose. It's going to take me awhile to get used to things."

Bombur nodded his head in understanding, his eyes moving from mine so that he could look in the direction of Ori. The young dwarf had a pile of parchment open on his lap and was vigorously scratching away at the surface with his quill. My auburn haired companion let out a sigh that revealed all his worries, his fingers moving to return the uneaten rations back into the box from which he had earlier pulled them. Once done he placed a large hand to my shoulder, a firm weight that while comforting did not fill me with the same sense of belonging I got whenever Thorin did the same thing.

"For some of them it is their first journey outside their ancestral homes. Take heart in the knowledge that you are not alone."

I wanted to argue that this was not exactly the same. I had come from a world where very few people 'roughed' it out in the wilderness, and I certainly was not one of them. I didn't know the first thing about survival in the wild and I most certainly did not know how to fight. Once again I wondered why on earth had Gandalf brought me here for beyond being a damned inconvenience to the group - an inconvenience that would need protecting.

"I am trying to take comfort in that fact. It just feels so ... ahhh. Gandalf brought me here and hasn't even stopped to think about the consequences. I don't even know how to fight, how am I supposed to be useful to the company if I need protecting all the time"

Oh dear, maybe I should never have said anything at all. The look of concern on his face only deepened as one hand was brought upward to his lips in a thoughtful manner. I could have sworn I heard him let out a disappointing 'tsk' as his eyes made a beeline for the offending wizard who was currently in a very animated conversation with Bilbo. Gandalf hadn't even bothered to apologize to me in a manner that I deemed suitable yet, had concerned himself more with the hobbit then the woman he'd dragged out of the twenty-first century. Bombur shook his head, thick braids bobbing with every movement and giving a tilt of his head in the direction of Kili.

"Then we best get you trained up. I will talk to Kili and see if he will agree to help."

At least he was going to ask Kili. I knew him enough to be comfortable around him, and I was quite sure that if he had asked Dwalin to train me then there would be nothing left of me by the time we got to the weather hills. Bombur let out a heavy groan as he pulled his heavy frame up from the ground, shaking life back into his lower limbs and leaving me with the impression that he was far older than he looked.

He wouldn't be the only dwarf here that looked young for their age I would admit, but this was the first time I found myself aware of the fact that they were all so much older than I was. Bombur offered a large hand and I accepted it, allowing the larger male to help me to my feet and taking a short moment to try and brush my clothing clean after sitting on the rock.

"Time to get going M'lady. Your travel companion awaits."

My travel companion? I followed his line of sight to where Thorin was standing beside his pony, and tried not to blush as the stormy eyes of the exiled king settled on mine. The dark haired male gave a slight jerk of his head in a silent askance for me to go join him, and I let out a low sound that was a mix of bubbling anxiety and excitement at the idea that I would get to ride with him again. Feeling suddenly aware that I was being a burden again I turned my gaze back to Bombur, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

"I don't want to be a hassle Bombur. How hard can it be to ride a horse?, I mean Bilbo figured it out pretty fast"

I'd be happy to fall off the pony a few times if it meant that I wouldn't have to be pressed up against Thorin. The longer I was near the man the more my body seemed to react to him. My brain struggled to remember the last time I'd had a crush that was as bad as this, but failed to think of any examples. Bombur offered me a gentle smile as he took in my increasingly flushed complexion, his eyes changing a quick look to Thorin and then back to me with a knowing smile on his face. Oh cripes ... Bombur knew I had a crush for Thorin. Great, just fantastic!.

"He would not offer if he thought it a hassle."

His hand pressed to the middle of my back, gently guiding me toward the waiting Thorin, and despite my efforts I knew there was no talking myself out of this one. The dwarves of Erebor were determined to make sure my introduction to the world was as comfortable as it could possibly be. Why they were not offering the same treatment to Bilbo was a complete mystery. Maybe they felt my transition was more jarring, or maybe it was just because I was a woman? Either way it was very thoughtful of them to look after me, but I certainly could have rode with any one of them.

Why did it have to be stupid sexy Thorin?

Thorin offered a hand as I approached, and I gratefully accepted his help up into the saddle of our pony that still desperately needed a name. My muscles twitched in complaint of one again being placed into a position that they were still not used to, and I adjusted my body weight to try and find a more comfortable position as Thorin pulled himself up onto the pony behind me. Bombur gave a respectful half bow of his body as he moved to return to his own mount, leaving me alone with the esteemed leader of our company once again. The gentle sway of the pony beneath me once again became a calming balm to my soul, taking away all the concerns I had once held as I allowed my body to relax back in against his.

"Tell me about your home"

The question caught me off guard. I had not thought that any of the dwarves would want to know about my home, least of all Thorin. Was I even ready to talk about home? It had not been long at all since I had been torn away from it, and the wound still felt horribly raw. A shaky breath was pulled into my lungs as I fought against my internal fears. It was doing me no good to internalise all this pain, best to let it all free and just get it over with so that healing process could begin.

"Picture in your mind the city of Minas Tirth. Now try to picture a city ten times its size. That is the city of New York ... my home. I come from a world of science and technology, a world dying a slow death as the humans upon it slowly suffocate it with their pollution."

I knew I was painting a bleak picture of the modern world, but was it not the truth? The world had been dying for years despite humanity's best efforts to turn back the tide of pollution, but that genie had been let out of the jar and now there was no reversing the pain my kind had inflicted upon the world. My eyes scanned the unscarred landscape of the world that now laid in front of me, a world of calm tranquillity that did not know the noise of the bulldozer or the chainsaw. To see a world like this made me see the full terror that had been inflicted upon nature on my own. My head shook as I tried to bring myself to more cheerful memories of my family.

"Housing is plentiful in my world, but that doesn't make it affordable for someone my age - especially on their own. I was living with my extended family when Gandalf turned up in my world .. "

Then a sickening sensation hit me right in the very pit of my stomach. I'd spent so much time thinking about how horrible this was on me that I had not even stopped to think about my family. If I was here, then what had happened to me in the other world? Gandalf had said I could not go back .. did that mean I was dead? Oh god, oh good god. I couldn't breathe, the panic attack hit me full force and my body could do naught but quiver in the strong arms that had suddenly wrapped around my torso.

"Grace?"

I choked in a breath, my shaking hands holding to the saddle as I tried to focus, and allowing my brain to clamber to the first stable point in the sea of panic it now swam in - the feeling of Thorin's body against my own. My emotions were the churning storm, and he was the stable rock that was now the one thing that stopped me being swept away into the dark deeps of despair.

"What ... What does my family ... think happened to me"

Another choking breath was taken in, though admittedly it was getting a bit easier to convince my lungs to work now. I blinked in the afternoon sun, trying to force away the tears that lingered in my eyes, but failing. I had thought I was done crying by now, but obviously not. Why couldn't I hold it together for just one pathetic day? I knew I should have been easier on myself all things considered, but it was incredibly difficult to do such a thing with the weight of expectation bearing down on your shoulders.

"Do ... they think ...I am dead? Oh my poor mum, she'll be distraught"

I knew that my whole family would be distraught if I had indeed died in my world, but of all of them it would hit my mother the hardest. Uncontrollable sobs slipped from me despite my best efforts to contain them, my body curling back into the warmth of his own as I sought out the comforting darkness of his heavy fur coat. Through it all Thorin remained quiet and still, his arms maintaining their comforting grip around my body and allowed me the time I needed to express my feelings. Eventually he spoke, his voice reverberating in his chest in a calming manner against my back and right side of my face that was currently resting against the uncomfortable interlacing sections of his chain shirt.

"I can't claim to know any of the answers you seek. However, I can assure you that the wizard will be explaining himself the moment we make camp tonight"

His voice was predominantly calm, but there was an underlying edge of steel there that said the wizard would be given no quarter. I was quite sure that if Gandalf did not give me the answers I wanted, then Thorin would beat them out of the wizard himself. I nodded mutely against his clothing, not really wanting anything to do with the wizard, but knowing I would need to talk to him if I wanted any of my questions to be answered.

It would be the most painful thing I would ever have to do in my life, but it was better to know the truth of things then not know at all.


	11. Gandalf - 'The Wise'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember the name of the mountain pass they eventually take over the misty mountains, for the one they end up taking in the movie doesn't seem to be the Red Horn Pass given how perilous it looks. 
> 
> It's my head cannon for this story that it was planned as an original routeway given it's proximity to Rivendell, and that it would have been known as a safe route through the mountains. But you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men.

I didn’t want to do this, wanted to wait another day, and maybe even another lifetime. 

Yet here I was allowing my body to follow in the wake of Thorin’s as he escorted me toward the wizard. The grey clothed elder was sat just at the edge of our camp, sat on a flat topped rock with his back relaxed against a nearby tree. Soft rings of smoke occasionally rising from his lips as he indulged himself in a little bit of pipe weed. He gave a hearty sound of greeting as we approached, waving toward the rock for us to join him and a wide smile on his lips that said he had no idea what Thorin was about to unleash upon him. 

“Ah my dear Grace Walker. Looks like you are finding your place in this world quite nicely indeed.”

Thorin grunted, a low agitated sound that showed he heartily disagreed with Gandalf’s statement, and pulled his own pipe from the depths of his clothing. He gave me an encouraging tilt of his head, his eyes kind despite the displeasure he felt toward the wizard and I found my body sinking down to sit on the rock next to Gandalf. The throbbing sensation of a headache made itself known, a dull ache that seemed to throb along with the ache in my heart and I let out a shaky breath as I gathered what little I had left of my courage. I didn’t want to talk to Gandalf, but I would have to do this at some point so I might as well get it over and done with. 

“Gandalf, are you really that blind? You know that I am far from fitting into this world.”

“Oh nonsense, I think you are getting along quite well given the circumstances” 

Gandalf gave me a brilliant smile, and all I wanted to do was give him another black eye to join the one that Fili had given him earlier that day. The sound of Thorin letting out a rumbling sound of annoyance drew the attention of the wizard, and I followed his line of sight to look back at the exiled king. The dark haired male was still in the process of packing his pipe with weed, fingers pushing it down with such force that I was sure that he was imagining it to be Gandalf’s smug face he was squashing. He gave the wizard such a withering look that I was sure that I could see Gandalf shrinking away from the dwarf as if suddenly aware that he had maybe gone a little bit too far this time. 

“The Lady Walker has many questions, and you would do well to answer them.”

Thorin turned that gaze to me, those dark eyes softening slightly as he offered the barest of smiles. 

“If he does not answer you to your satisfaction then I expect to hear about it”

Thorin turned, his thick cloak billowing around his body and I watched him with forlorn eyes as he made his way toward the fire where Bombur was tending to the night’s meal. I wished he had stayed to give me his silent support, but I knew that this wasn’t exactly a conversation he needed to bear witness too. Besides, he was the leader of this company and there were other things beyond the worries of one woman for him to be dealing with. I had to start learning how to get through my emotional turmoil without leaning on him the whole time.   
My arms pulled my legs up toward my body, resting my head on my knees, and finally making eye contact with the wizard who still had that kindly smile on his face. The gall of it all, couldn’t he at least summon up the decency to look sorry for what he had done? I shook my head, trying to fend off the growing headache and stared back out into the shadowy undergrowth of the forest that currently shielded our group from the eyes of whatever dark forces crawled around in the darkness. 

“What happened to me? Am I dead?”

Gandalf puffed thoughtfully on his pipe, his gaze focused on the twinkling stars over head, and that smile faltering for the briefest of moments. He looked suddenly very old - far older then he looked, and that was saying a lot given he already looked positively ancient. 

“My dear, you are far from dead. You are very much alive I can assure you of that.” 

Maybe I had to rephrase my question, because I didn’t think the wizard was going to give me a straight answer otherwise. 

“That is not what I meant and you know it. Did I die ... or does my family think I am missing”

“I don’t know”

Sheer unabated anger flooded into my system, and I found myself rocking slightly back and forth on my heels in an effort to burn off the energy in a productive manner that didn’t involve taking my frustrations out on the wizard. How could he not know? How could he bring me here and not have answers to questions I would no doubt ask him. He couldn’t have been so stupid as to think I would just forget that I’d had a life before this - had a family and friends that I would worry for and would in turn worry for me?. 

“You don’t fucking know? You pull me away from the only home I knew - away from my family, and you don’t know what my fate was? I could cope with them thinking I am dead, Gandalf ... but now you're telling me that they might not even know what my eventual fate was ...” 

I could not live with the thought that they might not know if I was dead or alive, that I had just vanished into the void, and my mother would now be sat by the phone while she desperately waited for news on what had become of me. It left me feeling chilled right to the very core and more than a little sick. Gandalf sucked on the end of his pipe, still looking calm despite my rising anger, and for the first time since we had left Bilbo’s simal he gave me an apologetic smile. 

“I wish I could give you the answers you seek, but that world is beyond my sight now - perhaps even beyond the sight of the gods.” 

My head dropped so that I could burrow my face into my knees, trying not to spiral into the oblivion of despair and tightening my grip to the one emotion that kept my head above water - anger.

“You know, I once thought you to be a kindly person, but now I am not so sure. Did you even stop to think what the repercussions of all this would be? That I might like to know in advance the kind of sacrifices that would be asked of me? Then, on top of it all you have the gall to cast a spell on me that makes me drawn to Thorin. Did you think so lowly of me that you would take away all my free will? All you had to do was ask for my help, was that so fucking hard?”

I was done with the wizard, he would never be able to give me the answers I needed, and nor would he ever be sorry for the pains he had inflicted upon my soul. To him the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few - as long as his great goal was achieved then what did it matter if he upset a few people along the way. Determined not to spend a moment longer in his company I turned my back to him and tried to return to the rest of the company, and only found my progress being halted by his large hand wrapping around my wrist. 

“That is nothing to do with me, the answers to that lie in the books of your world.”

My arm was pulled forcibly from his, my head turning to fix him with a cold look and wondering how he thought that I would willingly take his word as truth when he’d already proven himself to be less than trustworthy so many times over the last few days.

“It’s absa-fucking-lutely something to do with you. Everything that’s happened to be so far is because of you - now if you don’t mind I would like to get something to eat.” 

I turned my back to him once more, gave him the two fingered salute, and stalked back toward the warmth of the fire. The smell of cooking bacon reached my nose, the familiar scent both calming and upsetting all at the same time, and I wondered if I would even be able to eat anything right now given the unsettled feeling that lingered right in the pit of my stomach. Fili gave me a low word of greeting as I approached the small group of dwarves that was still hunched around the fire, and I wished that I was in the mood to give him one in return.

Instead I made my way to where Dwalin and Thorin sat on a large log that had been pulled close to the fire as a seat. Dwalin was slightly hunched over in a rather relaxed posture, one arm supporting his body weight on his knee, and watching me with that cold gaze of his. Thorin looked positively stiff in comparison to his more at ease kins-man, his back so plumb that I was sure that it would make a brick layer impressed, and a tense hand holding to the pipe he was so casually smoking as if he had not a care in the world. I let out a grunt as I stood before the pair, motioning for Dwalin to move so that I could sit between them. 

“Would you kindly scoot over.” 

The bald headed man lifted a defiant brow. He might not know what the word scoot meant, but he could easily guess what I wanted based on my gestures. I let out a sound of frustration as I placed my hands on my hips, trying to give the male my best ‘you better do as you are told’ expression, and sharply twitched my head to one side to once again indicate for him to move.

“Scoot over, or am I going to have to make you move?”

I knew as well as he did that I didn’t have the strength to make him do anything. He was an absolute tank of a man, a thick mass of muscle that could become an immovable slab of stone if the fancy took him to remain in his comfortable position. Dwalin was giving me a look that said he was very much aware that my words where a hollow threat, his gaze turning to Thorin beside him who had the vaguest hints of amusement playing at the corners of his lips - as if he was enjoying watching a slip of a woman ordering around his second in command. 

Dwalin might not have any intentions of being made to move from his comfortable spot, but Thorin was a little more inclined to grant my request - his body shifting slightly to the side and finally giving me the space to plop myself down between their much larger bodies. I grinned in victory, giving the wizard that was watching me from the edge of the camp a look that dared him to come mess with me now that I had two rather large and very grumpy bodyguards. Thorin let out a low grunt as he made himself comfortable once again, though I hardly doubted one could be comfortable given how tense he was, and the smell of tobacco made itself known as he once again nursed him pipe between his lips. 

“Did the wizard give you the answers you wanted?”

I had almost forgotten that Thorin had asked me to report on how the meeting with the wizard went. My elbows settled onto my knees and I lowered my head into my hands, knowing that if I did tell the dwarf what had happened then all hopes for a peaceful afternoon would be gone. Thorin had not given any indication that he was prone to fits of violence, always presenting himself as cool and collected despite what his inner emotions were, but even he had to have limits.  
Thorin let out a grunt that let me know that he expected an answer, and I let out a groan as I ran my hands through my hair. I had to look a complete state, with wild unkempt hair that was no doubt tangled within an inch of its life - and probably looking greasy as hell too given that I hadn’t even been able to have a decent bath yet. I longed to feel clean again, but at this point I would just settle for having brushed hair. My head shook as it dawned on me that there was no way out of this situation and that I would have to give Thorin the information he had requested from me.

“I will get no answers from Gandalf the Gray, for that information is beyond his sight ... or so he claims.”

There was something absolutely terrifying about watching someone like Thorin lose their cool. It was one thing to watch someone fly into a physical rage, to stand before them as they shouted and screamed at you from within inches of your face, but it was a completely different level to watch someone calmly push themselves up to their feet with the silent promise of retribution lingering within their eyes. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if I allowed the dwarf to act on those silent wishes then Gandalf would be getting so much more than a bruised eye tonight. 

My hand reached out with the full intention of just grabbing at the sleeve of his jerkin, and instead found my fingers wrapped around the palm of his hand. His skin was warm beneath mine, and I could feel the callouses beneath his skin that spoke of many hours wielding both hammer and sword. Thorin was easily strong enough to pull away from me, but he didn’t - instead he came to a physical halt the moment my arm reached its fullest extension and settled for silent glowering at the wizard instead. 

“God knows I would love you to give him a good decking right now, but I’ve had more then enough stress for one day. I ... I need you to be the bigger person, and just sit with me for awhile.” 

I watched as Thorin gave a nod of his head, gave one last look of disapproval in Gandalf’s direction and then finally pulled his hand gently from mine as he settled his body back down onto the log with a low grunt that said this would be another thing that he would never forget and never forgive. If this journey had been for anything other than retaking his homeland then I was quite sure that Thorin would have happily ordered his men to take their leave of the wizard and return back to their families. A wooden cup was pushed into my hands by Dwalin, the warmth against my palms soothing as I gazed down at the pale green brew and tried to discern what it was that had just been given to me. 

“Pine needle tea, good for the body and the soul.”

A hesitant sniff of the tea brought with it the scent of the forest, crisp and pure. I had never tried pine needle tea despite the fact that it was supposedly very good for you, rich in vitamins and antioxidants. My breath caused ripples to bloom across the steaming liquid as I made an attempt to bring it down to drinking temperature, and then brought it to my lips to take the smallest sip of the heavily fragranced tea. A slightly bitter taste made itself known to me, but it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant - just different to the kind of teas that I was used to. 

“It’s nice. Thank you Dwalin.”

Dwalin offered me a nod of his head, pulling a large hunting knife from his belt that seemed alive in the light of the fire, and then settled down to sharpen the edge of the blade. He slipped back into his own brooding thoughts, the slow and methodological rhythm of his whetstone becoming a kind of meditation. He was grumpy and sullen, but I didn’t think he was necessarily a bad man that disapproved of my company - he was just more used to the familiar company of his own men whom he trusted with his life. Dwalin had made an effort to be cordial to me and that was the most I could ask for from him. 

Happy to leave the male to his own thoughts, I turned my attention back to Thorin as I sipped at my tea, and found myself following his gaze to stare into the fire. The flickering flames danced among smouldering logs, bright sparks occasionally drifting into the air as Bombur stoked the embers with a long wooden stick, and I allowed my eyes to half close in a sleepy dose as I tried to let myself relax. This would probably be the last restful night I would have, the safe borders of the shire would be far behind us by this same time tomorrow, and it made me more than a little nervous to think I might not be able to predict all the dangers that awaited us on this journey. 

“What route will be taken from here?”

Thorin took in a deep breath, the embers in the bowl of his pipe glowing amber for a second, and then blew a casual smoke ring into the air. The distinctive sound of front teeth being clicked against by his tongue reached my ears, his dark eyes half closing in a thoughtful manner as he pulled his gaze away from the fire to look down at me with a pair of kindly eyes. I wondered if Thorin ever questioned my place among the company. He’d accepted me in without even a second thought, and had never given any indication that he thought me a burden. Would he have given me the same kindness if I was a man? Likely not if his cold behaviour with Bilbo was anything to go by.

“We follow the great east road, and if we keep a good pace we should reach Bree by the end of the week. The town will be our last chance to purchase supplies before continuing east, and it is my hope that we reach the foothills of the Misty Mountains by the end days of May. We will attempt a crossing at the Red Horn Pass provided the melt has opened the routeway enough for our purpose.” 

His path would never take him over the Red Horn Pass, and that was perfectly fine by me - just thinking of trying to cross that perilous peak left me feeling more than a little weak in the legs. Not that the route that we would eventually take would be any better, but there was a distinct lingering knowledge in the back of my mind that I shouldn’t alter the known journey of this company too much. I took another sip of my tea, taking another deep breath of soothing pine leaves and giving him an apologetic smile. Thorin was expecting me to be this great and powerful seer, but all he’d gotten so far was a woman that was struggling just to get through the day without having an emotional breakdown.

“Our journey should remain pleasant for the next few weeks - but I would still urge caution. Gandalf has brought me here, meddled where he ought not, and it’s muddied my ability to see the path forward."

Thorin nodded his head, accepting a wooden plate from Bombur that was piled high with food, and offered it towards me. I still didn’t feel particularly hungry, but I knew that I had to eat something substantial before I went to sleep that night given I had barely eaten since breakfast. I lowered my cup to rest it between my thighs so that my hands were now free, grabbed a large chunk of dry looking bread, and pulled it apart. The makeshift sandwich was then stuffed with a few rashers of bacon and a sausage that desperately needed a good dollop of Ketchup. 

My insides gave one last grumble of protest at the sight of my less than appetising looking meal, and then I forced myself to get the meaty sandwich ferreted away into my stomach before I could think about it too much. Admittedly, I did feel better once I actually had something in my stomach - the rolling and unsettled sensation easing the moment my body had something in it to digest beyond the jerky I had snacked on earlier in the day. I allowed my eyes to partially close as I allowed myself to doze, now full and as content as one could be given the circumstances. 

I was vaguely aware of the comfortable and yet itchy sensation of Thorin’s fur cloak as my sleepy body leaned against his, eyes closing as the soothing warmth of the fire pulled my thoughts down into dreamless sleep.


	12. The Escarpment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is getting posted a couple of days early.
> 
> It had been my plan to have a chapter in Bree, but it's been giving me massive problems and it's gotten to the point that I have already deleted what I wrote for it TEN WHOLE times. I am going to skip there time in the human town and make general references to what happened in future chapters instead as I can't allow one chapter to hold me back for weeks on end. 
> 
> Hope ya'll don't mind :3

_The sensation of cool rock made itself known to me as I lowered my forearms down onto the top of a torso high parapet, leaning my weight onto it and slightly leaning outward to take in the sight of the magnificent open-mouthed valley that spread out from the base of the wall. I had seen the movies so many times that I knew I had to be dreaming of Erebor, for there was no other place in middle earth with such a distinctive landscape._

_Soft scents reached my nose as a wind blew through that valley, causing long grass and brightly colored flowers to Ebb and flow in its wake as if I were watching the surface of the sea. This was not the battle stained and broken Erebor from the movies, this was a peaceful Erebor that I hoped might one day rise from the ashes of Smaug’s terrible grasp._

_Merry sounds echoed through the valley, drawing my eyes to the far off town of Dale, and smiling at the sight of seeing it restored. Bright kites fluttered high in the wind, trailing long tails behind them, and I tried to imagine the laughter of the children that must hold to the ends of the strings. My quiet contemplation of the world was broken by a pair of muscular arms wrapping around my slim body. The familiar smells of tobacco, vetiver, and pine needle made themselves known._

_“There you are, my love, I have been looking all over for you.”_

_His breath brushed against the shell of my ear, causing my body to shiver in arousal as he pulled my form flush against his torso - a firm embrace that made me feel protected. I let out a contented sound as I nestled the side of my head in against his jaw, enjoying the sensation of his neatly trimmed beard against my skin and wishing that I had the courage to do this in the waking world. Every day I had longed for something more than simple friendship with him, my feelings having escalated from a crush to something more akin to deep affection._

_“It’s such a lovely day, I just had to come up here and enjoy the sunlight for a bit.”_

_Soft lips brushed against my right temple, an exhale of breath trailing over my forehead and l let my body relax in against him - enjoying the sense of rightness that being so close to him always stirred within me. This was where I was supposed to be, warm and loved in the arms of my One while we basked in the pale sunlight of a glorious spring day whilst taking in the sight of our flourishing kingdom._

_My One? I felt like I should know what that meant, but the knowledge laid just out of reach and elusive._

_I frowned as I half turned toward Thorin, searching his handsome face for answers, but finding nothing for the dream was already fading away from my mind as the intrusive sensation of a stick right in my side made its presence known._

\-------------------------

I groaned as my consciousness slipped back into the waking world, my body rolling away from the branch that I had been laying upon and half staring into the flickering amber light of the nearby fire. The world beyond the light of the fire was still dark and still - a testament to the fact that dawn was still some hours away. Four nights on the open road and I still hadn’t slept through the entire night without being woken up by something. 

Sometimes it had been the noises of nocturnal critters scurrying in the darkness that would wake me up, others I would be awoken by Bombur’s snoring and then there were occasions like tonight where a root of a tree would rudely pull me away from my sleep. 

I grumbled to myself as both arms crossed beneath me, my head resting atop them even as I settled onto my side, and flexing in my chilled toes within my boots as I tried to get comfortable once more in the hopes of at least getting a few more hours of sleep. The warm weight of a heavy fur cloak was lowered over my curled form by a pair of tender hands, the familiar scent of its owner providing a sense of comfort as the cloak was tucked in around my now shivering muscles. I let out a sleepy sound as I turned my head partially upward in time to watch Thorin lower his weary body into the empty spot beside me.

“Can’t sleep?”

I let out a snort as I used the arm that was tucked beneath me to push my body to a seated position, running a hand through my lanky hair, and shifting closer to the heat of his body even as I pulled the fur cloak further around my slim body.

“I don’t understand it Thorin, how do they sleep so soundly?”

The dwarf beside me let out a low sound of sadness as he made himself comfortable, one leg flexed so that he could rest his arm upon it and the other extended in front of him as he allowed his body to relax back against the rock face behind us. It always surprised me he would allow me to see him with his guard dropped in such a way and wondered what made me so special, for he didn’t let any of his closest companions in the company see him like this. Perhaps it was because I wasn’t a dwarf and thus he didn’t feel the need to maintain that kingly aura that he so often wore like a mantle around his shoulders.

“It is my great shame that they have become used to such hardships.”

He looked so guilty, as if he felt it was his fault that the dragon had pulled them away from their homes and sent them out into the wilderness all those years ago. I hated to see him blame himself for all this, hated to see the look of pain that lingered in the depths of his eyes and reached out to rest the palm of my hand on his chain shirt - right over his heart as I gathered the strength to catch his eyes with my own intense gaze.

“Those dwarves could have easily stayed in Ered Luin with their families, could have avoided the hardships of a journey into the unknown wilderness of middle earth, but they didn’t Thorin. Want to know why? Because they have seen a king that has given blood, sweat and perhaps tears just so they would have a safe place that they could call home even if it was not the ancestral one they grew up in. You did the best you could in a shitty situation, and you should not feel ashamed that you have earned their unwavering loyalty after all that you have done for them.”

The dwarves that had followed him had all been given a choice, could have easily said no to this dangerous journey, and not one of them had turned down the opportunity to follow their king in his attempt to reclaim their homeland. My heart fluttered in my chest as his larger hand lifted to rest over my own, thick fingers curling slightly around my palm and keeping it pressed against the cool metal of his mail shirt. Those eyes of his that had been so pained moments before softened ever so slightly, pale depths watering with unshed tears, as if I’d spoken some truth that perhaps he’d long known but had never accepted.

“I never want to hear you say that you are ashamed of what happened ... you hear me Thorin Oakenshield ... never.”

He should have been sitting there with a smile of pride on his face, content knowing that he’d given everything for his people, and yet here he fretted it was not enough and would never be enough until he’d given them back their homeland. Thorin would give everything he had to fulfill that quest, even if that meant he had to give his life to achieve such a thing. The thought of him lying cold and dead on the battlefield caused a heavy lump to form in my throat, a world without my One in it felt like a very bleak place indeed and I nestled in against his warmer body to escape the chill that had settled deep into my soul.

My One.

I had hoped that what happened in my dreams stayed in my dreams, but that insistent thought had crept back into my mind the very moment it had seen the opportunity to do so. A grumbled sound of half-content left him as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, the warmth of his body much more noticeable as I was pulled flush in against his side and into a half embrace. Perhaps I was still dreaming? It wasn’t like Thorin to initiate contact with me once we’d dismounted the pony at the end of a long day in the saddle. 

“Are all women in your world as wise as you are?”

My lips parted in a half laugh at the question.

“Not all of them. The ladies in my office, where thick as two short planks, couldn’t hold an intelligent conversation for the life of them unless it involved make up or their children ... they bored the living daylights out of me.”

Again, I felt as if I was painting an extremely biased picture of my world based on my experiences in it. I tilted my head upward, eyes partially closed as I pressed my forehead and nose into the underside of his jaw, and felt my cheeks flush with blazing heat at just how bold I was being. Wake up Grace, this isn’t a dream ... he has every right to tell you you’ve taken way too many liberties with him, and that he isn’t the least bit interested in you. But he didn’t do any of those things, instead he just let his head rest against the top of mine and my heart sung for joy at the realisation that there might be something there after all.

The piercing shriek of a far away orc broke the quiet of the night, drawing a panicked yelp from my lips even as Thorin half jolted upright to look in the sound’s direction. I could feel the frenzied beat of my heart as my eyes scanned the darkness of the world, drawn to the edge of the escarpment we had been using as our camp and trying not to think of the dozen of so monstrous creatures that lingered somewhere in that endless horizon.

“What was that?”

Bilbo’s small voice reminded me I wasn’t the only one that had been panicked by the howling voices of the orcs, the hobbit’s pale face making itself known as he rushed from where he’d been lingering with the ponies to be closer to the relative safety of the fire. Poor soul had lived all his life in relative safety, and just like me had just been introduced to the startling idea that the world was a dangerous place. Kili grumbled slightly as his attention was pulled away from the block of wood he held in one large hand, the other whittling away at that block with a knife with surprising dexterity as he cast a questioning look to his brother whom was nursing his elaborate pipe as if he was musing some grand mystery of the world.

“Orcs. Throat Cutters, there will be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them.”

A cloud of smoke was exhaled into the air as the blonde-haired male spoke, the light of the fire reflecting off the silver beads in his hair as he leaned forward to rest one arm over his knee.

“They strike in the wee small hours when everyone is asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams ... just lots of blood.”

My lips pressed together in a thin line as I watched the pair share a look, give each other a knowing smile, and then laughed lowly to themselves as if this was some great joke rather than a serious matter of life and death. Trembling fingers wrapped into the dark blue fabric of Thorin’s inner coat as I lifted my head up from his chest, narrowing my eyes at the pair who where still chuckling to themselves and took in a deep cleansing breath as I tried to tamper down the panicked drumming of my heart that was still flooding my system with adrenaline. 

I could feel the low annoyed rumbling that left the body of the dwarf that I clung too, the arm that held me so firmly to his side easily moving my weight so that I was instead nestled more fully against his torso and then wrapping both of his strong arms around my quivering body. Softly whispered words of Khazdul made themselves known as he took a moment to calm my fears, and while I didn’t understand what any of those words meant I got the general feeling that he was letting me know I was safe based upon his soothing tones and how he kept my form wrapped up in his protective embrace. 

“You think that’s funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?”

Thorin’s tone was dark and dangerous as he turned his attention back toward his young nephews, the scowl that marred his handsome features letting it clearly known that he didn’t much like that they had scared me. Fili instantly turned away, his gaze dropping to the ground as if realising that he’d been a bit of an idiot, and was now all too eager to submit himself to whatever punishment his uncle deemed fit. His brother was seemingly a little less willing to accept that he’d done anything wrong. Lips pressed together in a thin line and brows partially raised as if he felt Thorin was being overly sensitive about this joke.

“We meant nothing by it.”

“Of course you bloody didn’t. As long as you get your giggles, then it’s all fine and fucking dandy ... little gits.”

Kili’s gaze lowered from his uncle’s angry features as I made my ire known, his eyes widening in surprise as if he hadn’t expected to see me wrapped up so intimately in Thorin’s strong arms, and I watched in fascination as his tanned skin paled ever so slightly as he realised just how much trouble he might well be in. 

“You know nothing of the world.” 

Thorin’s low voice still carried some small annoyance as he spoke, one hand idly rearranging the thick furs of his cloak around me even though his attention remained partially focused on reprimanding the two younger dwarves who still had so much to learn about the world they lived in. Kili pulled his dark eyes away to survey the rest of the company as if looking for someone to bail him out from the sticky situation he’d gotten himself in to, his face taking on a rather childish pleading expression the moment that he spotted the elderly Balin stepping into the warm light of the fire, and Balin let out a sigh as if perhaps he’d had to save this younger dwarf from the consequences of his actions way too many times over the years.

“You need to weigh your words laddie, Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs.”

Balin leaned his body against the craggy rock face of the escarpment beside the two younger dwarves, more than happy to give the pair the history lesson they so badly needed, and I allowed my eyes to partially close as I relaxed back into the firm weight of Thorin’s broad chest. The male behind me let out an inaudible breath, the tension lifting from his shoulders the moment that he felt me relax in his arms, and allowed the underside of his jaw to slightly rest atop my skull as if the weight of the world had come crashing down on him again.

“After the dragon took the lonely mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of orcs, led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler, The giant Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the King. Thrain, Thorin’s father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know.”

I shifted in Thorin’s embrace at the mention of his long missing father, my thoughts spinning as my memories of the books made themselves known to me and letting out a low gasp at the remembrance that Thrain had died long ago in Dol Guldur - alone and with no memory of who or what he was.

“Grace?”

Thorin’s concerned voice drew me out of my dark thoughts, and I wrapped my arms around my legs as I pulled them up toward my body so that I could fold the thick fabric of his cloak around my chilled lower legs.

“He was taken prisoner and imprisoned in the dark ruins of Dol Guldur. There he suffered much at the hands of the enemy and became but a shell of his former self. The future is a fickle snake in my hands, but the events of the past are solid and more easy to see - I can say with some assurance that Thrain passed from this mortal realm some ten summers ago.”

I felt awful to dump this terrible news on them, but they needed to know what had happened to their former King. My eyes narrowed as I looked up toward Gandalf, who was half dozing in the fire’s light not more than ten paces away from my current sitting place. The wizard had met Thrain before his death, had suspected that he’d finally found the long missing king, but had not been entirely sure, for Thrain had forgotten even his own name and titles by that point in time. It was only once Gandalf had met Thorin that he realised whom that poor dwarf had been, and it agitated me more than a little to know that Gandalf hadn’t told Thorin about Thrain.

“That is very dark news indeed.”

Balin sounded most grieved, his eyes lowering as he visibly mourned the passing of a once great dwarf. He must have wondered about Thrain’s eventual fate for so many years, held to the hope that perhaps he was alive somewhere, and I’d finally provided an answer even if it was not the one that he would have wanted to hear. The sensation of Thorin’s nose against the back of my head told me that the dwarf had hidden his face in my hair, overcome by my dark announcement that his father had been dead for some time now, and I allowed him to use me as his shield from the world.

It only seemed fair after he’d been mine so often over the past few days.

The group was silent for a good long moment, each digesting my announcement in their own way, and Balin eventually gave a heavy shake of his head that caused his long beard to bob with the movement. His watery eyes settled on the two young dwarves that sat before him, two princes of the realm that must seem so terribly important now that he knew the true fate of the onetime king. A faint smile made itself known at the very edges of his lips, as if some small hope had returned into this heart and he continued with the story that he had been telling Fili and Kili before I had interrupted him.

“We were leaderless. Defeat and death where upon us. That is when I saw him, a young dwarf prince facing down the pale orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armour rent, and wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated, but there was no feast nor song that night. For our dead where beyond the count of grief, we few had survived, and I thought to myself then - there is one I could follow. There is one, I could call King.”

I could feel a heated flush forming on my face at the sudden feeling of being watched, not wanting to look away from Balin and yet unable to stop myself from turning to take in the sight of eleven awed faces as they looked to their King. My lips parted in a grumble as I felt Thorin’s stance behind me change, his once relaxed muscles stiffening as if very aware that his company had caught him with his guard down and was now hastily building those walls back around him as if his very life depended on it. I knew little about his upbringing, but I got the distinct feeling that he’d been taught to keep people at bay - to be this stoic leader that should never let his subjects see him show any kind of emotional vulnerability. 

“And the pale orc, what happened to him?”

Bilbo turned his head to look at me, and I lowered my eyes to the ground as that icy feeling of dread wrapped around my heart once again.

“He slunk into the darkness of Moria. There he nursed his wounds, and his great hatred for the line of Durin. He is out there in the night’s darkness waiting to make his move, and I will do my best to guide your path well clear of his evil intent.”

I still didn’t know if it was entirely possible for me to avoid Azog the Defiler, given how determined the orc was to claim the heads of the heirs of Durin. The fate of the world rested in my small hands, a delicate mass of intertwined knots that might well twist themselves into even worse knots at the very moment that I tried to pick them all apart. Each moment would have to be pondered and weighed up, and I still didn’t know if I had the courage to change that great tapestry.

Eventually I would have to find that courage for the time of great choices was fast approaching whether I should want it to or not.


	13. One Rainy Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments that you have been leaving on this story.  
> They always bring a smile to my lips and give me the motivation I need to keep writing for ya'll 
> 
> \-- Note --
> 
> Willow bark was traditionally used in ancient times to treat pain. Several methods of ingestion are mentioned, but I've gone with 'chewing' for this particular chapter

I grumbled to myself as I pulled my coat around my body, trying to protect as much of my shivering body from the rain as humanely possible and then giving up entirely.

What was the point? It had been raining heavily since the early hours of the morning, the lower half of my body was already soaked through, and I was pretty sure that the rest of me wouldn’t be that far behind because the coat I was wearing felt absolutely sodden with water. The only dry part of my body was my back and the upper portion of my shoulders that had been protected from the rain due to the fact that I’d been plastered to Thorin’s warmer body for some hours now. I blew at a rain bedraggled strand of hair that clung to the side of my chilled face, longing for the warm bed that I had left back in Bree the previous night and already missing the town despite how much I had hated it. 

Bree had been every bit as dreary as the movies had made it out to be, but those movies could have never prepared me for the fact that it had absolutely stunk of stale urine and shit. I’d been all too happy to hole myself up in one of the rooms that Thorin had rented out at the Prancing Pony, and had given my filthy body a good long wash, though I still debated that anyone could clean properly with a small bowl of water and a rag barely bigger than my hand. After that I had made my way back down into the tavern, stuffed my face with an absolutely glorious meat pie, and drank more mead than was entirely necessary. I’d promised myself not to touch the foul water in Bree, but that didn’t mean that I had to get so drunk that I had sung some extremely vulgar shanties that had amused Dwalin no end.

“Here, Mr Gandalf. Can’t you do something about this deluge?”

Dori’s voice shouted out over the rain, his frustration with the current weather very clear as he beseeched the wizard to make the trip a little more bearable. I don’t know what he expected Gandalf to do. So far the wizard seemed just like any other old man and had given no hints at all to the fact that he was in fact a powerful Maia.

“It is raining, master dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, find yourself another wizard.”

Another wizard, was it not bad enough that he had one of the pissing things in our party as it was? I knew I shouldn’t be tarring all the wizards with the same brush after what Gandalf had done to me, but it was extremely hard not to given my current grumpy mood. I was beyond cold, more than a little wet, and a painful ache had settled into my hips that had nothing at all to do with the weather. Oh shit! I was cramping! The color drained immediately from my face even as I scrambled for the reigns of the pony, pulled them backward slightly to slow the beast to a halt and tried to extract myself from Thorin’s muscular arms that where currently holding tight to my mid-section.

“I need to freakin’ pee.”

The dwarf let me go with a grunt, one arm dropping to his side so that I could slip down from the saddle, and I lingered by the side of the pony just long enough to retrieve one of the rags that I had purchased during my time in Bree. I didn’t even have the time to care if I was being subtle about this, the damned dwarves were going to put up with a menstruating woman in their midst at some point, and the wilds gave little opportunity for privacy - I was lucky if I even got to pee in a bush most days. Thankfully, this forest was a little more giving when it came to providing me with a place of privacy where I could wiggle out of my underclothing and I let out a slight breath of relief at the knowledge that I had caught things before I stained my panties too badly.

The wad of fabric was folded as best I could manage with my cold hands, my body hunched over it to keep it as dry as possible although I knew it would be as wet as the rest of me soon enough, and then shoved the damned thing into my undergarments as I let out a muffled sob of despair as I wondered if this day could get much worse. I cleaned my hands on a nearby wet leaf as I continued to grumble to myself, rearranged my clothing around my body. I took the brief chance to flip the wizard off as I walked out of the bush and caught the frustrated look on his face. 

What did Gandalf expect when he brought a woman on this journey? He must know that we had periods every month ... right? He couldn’t be that fucking dumb to think that I could breeze through this thing with the minimum of bathroom breaks. 

I made my way back toward Thorin, looking up into those handsome features of his as he gave me a gentle look of understanding, and then took his offered hand so that he could help lift me back up into the saddle. He made it look so easy to heft me up off my feet, but he was gentle as he placed a steadying hand to my shoulder to make sure that I wouldn’t full off whilst I settled back into the saddle. All I wanted in that moment was some nice warm blankets, a massive bar of chocolate and to watch a trashy romantic comedy movie to take my mind off things. Middle Earth was a long way off from inventing decent chocolate and the television, and it wasn’t as if I had access to warm blankets while on the open road.

The stoic dwarf behind me shifted, one arm pulling me back in against his warm torso, and offered me what looked to be a small section of tree bark. I took the item from the gloved section of his palm and lifted it up to give a curious sniff of the wood, as if that would tell me what it was. 

“Willow bark. Chew on it, should help with your pains.”

His voice was kept barely above a whisper as he spoke, the warmth of one of his palms moving from its resting spot on my hip to cover the lower half of my abdomen instead, and I let out a slow breath as his body heat helped ease that ache.

“If you need a break, you let me know.”

This aloof king was making more of an effort to care for me than any man in my modern time I had dated, and he didn’t even have any access to decent painkillers or heat pads. I let out a low grumble as I gave into that warm desire in my heart, my head tilting backward to nestle my forehead in against the stubble of his jaw and always pleased when he didn’t pull away. I’d been testing the waters with him every day since that night on the escarpment, giving simple gestures of my building affections for him, allowing myself to open up to the idea of a relationship with him, but still too nervous to take the next step and put that feeling into words.

“I don’t think the Wizard will like that much.”

“He gets no choice in the matter. He will suffer your breaks, or he will have me to answer to.” 

I knew dwarves were protective of females in their care, but Thorin seemed to be protective of me in a way that was far different to that of the rest of his men. He did not take kindly at all to anyone that dared to upset me, and Gandalf was more often than not the one on the receiving end of that violent ire. It was getting to where Gandalf rarely interacted with me or Thorin, choosing to instead spend his time with Bilbo, who had become a very close acquaintance of the wizard. I gave the bark one last experimental sniff and then popped it in my mouth to carefully chew on it. The last thing I wanted was a mouthful of splinters.  
“Kili.”

Thorin’s body twisted behind me as he called to his youngest nephew, the sound of fast approaching hoof falls heralding the arrival of Kili and I turned my gaze to take in the sight of the rain bedraggled male as he gave a respectful tip of his head to his uncle. He still had yet to completely redeem himself following his social faux pas from a few nights ago and was on what my mother would call his ‘best behaviour’. 

“Take your brother and scout ahead, see if there is a dry place we can use for our camp tonight.”

Kili nodded his head, called out to his brother, and I watched the pair as they rode out into the rainy gloom of the forest. I knew that the two brothers would be fine, that they were highly trained warriors that could look after themselves, but I still worried for their safely. I didn’t quite know if my presence among the company had changed the timeline of this journey, and I was getting increasingly agitated as spring slowly gave way to summer. The encounter with the trolls would happen some time towards the end of May if my memory served correctly, and it definitely felt like it had to be at least the start of May given the changeability of the weather.

I had not yet decided what I wanted to do about that upcoming event, my mind being in two very different camps, and I didn’t know which of those choices would be the better of the two. The first choice was to somehow talk Thorin into a different camp when we finally got to the ramshackle farm and to avoid the fight with the trolls all together. However, the problem with that choice was that those three trolls would then be free to continue to bring death to the local farming community. The second was to allow things to follow the route pre-determined in the movies, but the problem was that not saying anything at all about the danger might cause the dwarves to distrust me. Thorin was only just opening up to me. The last thing I wanted was for him to throw those walls back up again.

“Something on your mind?”

Thorin always seemed to sense my changing moods, his body tensing slightly and head turning to scan the horizon as if he was worried that I had perhaps foreseen some kind of danger.

“I don’t know what to do, Thorin. My heart tells me to warn you of dangers on the horizon so that your men don’t have to suffer at the hands of the enemy, but my mind warns me not to say anything at all - that if I pull too many strings from the tapestry of the world I will bring it tumbling down into darkness and chaos.”

He let out a thoughtful grumble, the hand that still held to the reigns moving to adjust the weight of his rain dampened furs around our bodies, and giving the barest shake of his head in apparent dissatisfaction that the cloak protected neither of us enough from the rain that still pelted down around us. 

“During your life you will be asked to make many choices between what is easy, and what is difficult. On one hand, you have the easy path, a path that would save those closest to you from the burdens of the world, but you might then have to live knowing that you sent a dozen more you didn’t know to their deaths. On the other hand, you have the hard path, one that will put a minority of your people into great peril, but if you follow that path then perhaps you could help everyone in your kingdom ... or maybe even beyond that.”

I wasn’t deaf to the underlying message of his lesson, the very subtle reminder that the man that had caught my affections wasn’t just any old man. The arms that were wrapped so lovingly around my body belonged to someone that would be king the moment that Erebor was reclaimed, and then I would be asked to put the benefits of an entire kingdom before my own selfish worries and desires. It was his way of telling me ‘hey, this is the life you will face if you take this any further, are you sure that is the life you want?’ without having to actually say it out loud. That I might be a queen some day if I pursued this relationship terrified me, but the thought of abandoning my One for an easier life away from that responsibility terrified me even more.

My peaceful life had been lost the moment that I’d been torn from my home, now only the hard path remained before me and I could see the very beginnings of a hopeful future that would be all the brighter because I took that path.

“You are the seer from beyond the world, only you know the path that we must walk, and I would follow you even if it would lead me and my men into danger for I know you would not lead us needlessly into such darkness.”

It made me feel better to know that I would have his complete and unwavering trust no matter what I did - even if that meant that I had to sometimes put him into peril for the ‘greater good’. My left hand moved from where I had tucked it in under my arms for warmth, lowering to rest over his own that still provided comfort to my aching body, and allowing my nervous fingers to entangle in his own thicker digits - my silent way of saying ‘this frightens me, but I will not be scared away now that I’ve found whatever this is’.

“You are a good man, you know that, right? Don’t let any poxy wizards or elves tell you otherwise.”

“I think you’ll find that I am a dwarf, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

His tone was joking and just a little sarcastic, and I let out a sound of surprise as I pulled my head back to look at the rather light-hearted expression on his face.

“Was that a joke?”

Thorin let out a laugh, not just some small and all too faint chuckle, but a booming laugh that resonated in his whole body like rolling thunder over the hills. I couldn’t see his men from my current sitting position, but I knew they had to be looking at him in complete amazement, for Thorin didn’t seem like someone that laughed all that often.

“Don’t look so surprised, my dear, I assure you I know how to tell a joke.”

He turned his head as if he’d not intended to openly call me his ‘dear’, the faintest evidence of a blush making itself known on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Holy Shit, I didn’t think I would ever get to see this stoic leader in quite a flustered state, and I found it made him look far more attractive than that distant look of indifference that he so often wore on his handsome features. The more he opened up, the less he seemed like the Thorin I had seen in the movies, and I was wondering where that Thorin ended and this newly emerging ‘at ease’ Thorin started.  
“Good. I like jokes, just not the god awful ones that your nephews are prone to.”

I leaned back in to press a brief kiss to his cheek before I lost my nerve to do so, watching that faint blush in his cheeks as it took on a distinctly redder edge and rather enjoying the way he was muttering to himself in low Khazdul. At some point I was going to have to learn the language, but I did not know how I was going to talk any of the dwarves into teaching me to speak it, given how secretive they seemed to be about their culture. This was not stuff they readily shared with outsiders, and despite how close I was getting to Thorin, I still felt as if I had yet to earn the right to learn such a closely guarded secret of their people.

The faint sound of fast hoof falls, and the whistling of a merry song heralded the return of Kili and Fili to the group. I could feel Thorin shifting behind me in the same familiar way he always did when reverting to his more ‘kingly’ self, but the slightly relaxed set of his shoulders and the way he kept me lovingly held against him said that he hadn’t gone back to that full ‘aloof’ nature that he’d had when I first met him. Kili grinned in a rather boyish manner as he took in his uncle’s no doubt still very flushed features, the relaxed stance of his body, and then offered the older male a knowing and all too cheeky wink.

“Are we perhaps ruining a moment?”

“How the hell can anyone have a moment if you two keep ruining them?”

My grumbled words drew rakus laughter from the two younger dwarves, and it more than made me miss my older sister who would have fit in with these two annoying pranksters that were slowly worming their way into my affections as a part of my extended ‘family’. Kili gave a look to his brother that left me wondering if the pair had some kind of silent telepathy, grinned that toothy grin of his, and then tapped his pony so that he could ride to the right of us with that tormenting grin very much still clear on his face.

“She’s feisty uncle, I like her ... if you don’t want her then I’ll be happy to take her off your hands.” 

There was a joke, and then there was overstepping the lines of what was acceptable joking material. The comment that the dark-haired youngster had made was so far over the line that it might as well been in Gondor or even as far away as the Undying Lands. I was vaguely aware of Thorin’s rumble of warning leaving his throat as I pulled my frame to an upright sitting position, my ire making it hard to focus past that instant desire to make it very clear to the younger dwarf I wasn’t his to take.  
“Fiesty? I’ll show you the meaning of fiesty if you dare take me away from my One!”

Please don’t tell me I had said that out loud. It was one thing to have that thought in my head, but to make that claim clearly for pretty much all to hear when I did not know what it even meant. God, please smite me now, for that would be very helpful indeed. I could feel myself turning an absolute shade of beet red, the heat in my neck telling me that more than my face was blushing at my public admission of lord knows what, and I only blushed more as Kili laughed even harder at my reactions to his now all too obvious teasing.

“I told ya Fili, come on ... pay up!”

The little shit had planned this all along! I didn’t know if I should be angry at him or impressed that he’d been brave enough to ‘poke the beast’ for the sake of a bet. I didn’t think Thorin was that much impressed either, for I could still hear him griping under his breath in his native language, all spitting vowels and agitated accenting as he glowered at his two nephews that where having a merry old time at his expense. Fili turned his head with a pale look, as if thinking this might not have been such a great idea after all, and was now whistling nervously as if he did not know what his more troublesome brother was talking about.

“I had thought I had brought you two up with better manners than this. To joke and place bets on such a sacred matter of the heart .... is unforgivable. You will give that money to Grace and I will have strict words with your mother next I see her.”

A One was a sacred thing to them? Of course it fucking was. Shit, I was going to have a panic attack and the last thing that I needed was even more money to carry around. His fingers that where still entangled in my own gave a slight squeeze, a gentle reminder I was okay and yet also a firm grounding point that enabled me to breathe once again as I let my head settle against his upper sternum with a low groan of embarrassment.

“Give it to Ori. He was lamenting a lack of funds to buy parchment and new quills back in Bree.” 

“If that is what you wish, then it will be done. Fili, you will make sure that Ori receives his kind donation from the Lady Walker. Kili, I still believe I am owed a report as to if there is a suitable place to shelter for the night?.” 

Fili gave a slight tip of his head and tapped his pony so that he could retreat to the rear of the party with clear relief on his face that he’d been let off with what was essentially a slap on the back of the hand. His darker haired brother still looked very pale in the face as he lifted his gaze, as if he knew that there might yet be some additional form of punishment coming his way later that day, and made a motion of his hand in a north-easterly direction.

“There is a hollowed out hillside not more than a half hour’s ride from here, it’s far from big enough for all of us to fit under all at once, but it will at least provide a dry place for a fire and to get the lady warm before she catches a cold.”

Thorin let out a grunt to show that this was acceptable, tapping the side of the pony with one booted foot and a slight shift of the reigns to let the animal know what way it should be going. I still didn’t know what I had just admitted to, but I got the feeling that it was incredibly important and that it would change the whole dynamic of not just my relationship with Thorin but of the whole company that had now become such an integral part of my life.


	14. You + Me = One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's one of the last little quiet moments I plan to do before they have to deal with the dangers of the world.

The hallowed out hillside that the two brothers had chosen for our camp that night wasn’t much to write home about, little more than a small cavelet that had formed under the gnarled roots under an old tree with several large boulders making up part of the ‘roof’ and floor. It was so small that I doubted more than five of us could have crawled under that shelter, and even then that would have been a tight fit. I pulled my thick coat around my body as Thorin’s firm hands helped me down from the saddle, briefly pressing a thankful palm to his shoulder and still feeling utterly miserable given how wet I currently was.  


My companion kept a hold of me just long enough to make sure that I was settled on my feet, then reached over to unhook my pack from the pony and easily hefting it over one shoulder as if it weighted nothing at all. The warmth of one of his hands was pressed to my lower back, and I was sure that I was blushing heavily as he made a rather visible show of escorting me to the cavelet that was being examined with a critical eye by Balin.

“It’s not perfect by all means, but it looks stable enough. Oin, lets get a fire going..”

The white-haired male turned to wave to Oin whom was stood not that far away, his large body hunched over as if to keep as much of his cloak around his body, and gave a nod as he moved to search the area for dry tinder. Given how long it had been raining, it’d be a miracle if he found even one dry log, let alone enough for a fire. Balin brushed down his wet clothing, kindly eyes moving to take in the sight of my bedraggled state, and offered me a fatherly smile as he motioned for me to step into the protective lee of the cavelet.

“Come on, Lass, best get out of those wet clothes.”

Thorin let out a grunt as he stepped into the protective shelter of the hill for a moment to lower my pack down beside my feet, his shoulders shifting so that he could pull the thick fur-lined cloak from his body and settled its heavy weight over my back before making his way to stand beside Balin who had moved to stand at the entrance of the small cave.  


With their broad backs turned, and arms crossed over their bodies they provided very effective shielding from any wandering eyes that might try to sneak a peak while I was getting changed - not that I thought any of the men would even think of attempting such a thing. I’d been on the road with them two weeks or more by now, and they’d all been highly respectful of my privacy when I needed to see to my bodily needs.  


My wet coat, shirt and trousers where hooked over a low-hanging branch to the best of my ability, and the more intimate items of my apparel where shoved into my back because I was not airing out my underclothing in front of the men no matter how chivalric they behaved. I still didn’t know what I was going to do with my ‘pads’, I’d have to request a stop at a stream to do some basic washing at some point, and as hard as I tried I couldn’t prevent myself from feeling like my cycle had made me into an inconvenience. The dry clothes felt rather warm against my chilled skin, halting the worst of the shivering for now as I dressed myself and pulled Thorin’s cloak further around myself for warmth.

“I’m decent if you want to get in out of the rain for a bit.”

Thorin turned his head briefly, stormy eyes taking in the sight of my bedraggled hair, and I guessed I must have looked like a drowned rat given how small I must look in his furs. A brief shake of his body was given as he tried to rid his clothing from the worst of the rain, stepping into the shelter of the cave once again and lowering his body to rest against one boulder. He made a barely perceivable motion to the spot right beside him as he settled into a comfortable position, one leg raised much like I had seen at the escarpment so that he could rest an arm over his knee, and I gave the dark-haired male a cheeky smile as moved to sit between his legs instead.

“So ... what is a One, and what exactly am I saying by claiming you as such?”

Now that I was warm and semi-comfortable, I very much wanted some answers. I could feel the dwarf behind me, shifting to retrieve something from one of his pockets, and letting a thoughtful sound leave his throat as he considered my question.

“Ones are two halves of the same soul forged together by Mahal himself. When you openly make the claim, you are letting others know that you’ve recognised your soul’s partner and will now have no other partner in your life.”

Not only had I claimed him to be my soul mate, but I’d also told the dwarves that I wanted to spend my life with him ... great, just great. I’d only just warmed up to the idea of pursuing a relationship with this, at times, very stoic man. Now I’d been thrown in at the deep end by a pair of rambunctious teenage dwarves that should have known better, given how little I knew of this world. Thorin’s thick fingers slowly rearranged my damp hair, the sensation of a wide-toothed comb making itself known as he brushed out my tangled locks, and I partially closed my eyes as I relaxed into the calming rhythm of that comb running through my hair.

“How do you know when you’ve found a One?”

Balin chuckled softly from his position nearer the entrance of the cave, he’d got a small flame going using a few of the dried leaves and twigs that were scattered over the ground, and was now tending to that very fragile fire as if his life depended on it.

“You mean besides angrily claiming him the moment one of his nephews expresses an interest? The first thing most dwarves will feel is the fall of the hammer as their soul recognises their One, some describe this sensation as like being thrown into a forge, or as if they have been struck by lighting.”

I blushed fiercely as I remembered the sensation that I’d felt when I had very first set my eyes on Thorin - the white light, the heat and the sheer overwhelming heat. The warmth in my face only grew as I remembered the look of surprise that I had seen on Thorin’s face as he had examined me, and I now realised that he must have felt the same thing that I had done. A grunt of slight annoyance left Thorin as I half turned my body toward him, lifting a hand to rest on his shoulder and letting my eyes catch his own.

“This whole time, you knew I was your One. Why didn’t you say something?.”

Thorin’s face softened into something that resembled great sadness and longing, one of his large hands moving to cup the underside of my jaw and trail a rough skinned thumb over my cheek.

“Mahal has never forged a dwarf with a human before. I didn’t know if you would feel the bond, let alone understood what that feeling meant if you did. Besides, you had just been through an immensely traumatic life event, and I wished to give you time and space to grieve your losses.”

I could not imagine what it must be like, as a dwarf, to find out that your soul mate was someone that might never feel that bond in the same way that you did. My hand lifted to rest over the one was held to my jaw, eyes partially closing as I nuzzled my face in against his gloved palm and feeling beyond content knowing that this attraction was something that we both felt. Was I upset that Kili had forced me to make a grand statement of my affections? Hell yes I was, but I was also extremely grateful all at the same time. Me and Thorin had been tiptoeing around the very outskirts of a relationship ever since that night at the escarpment, and I very much doubted either of us would have taken that next step if it hadn’t had been for Kili.

“Things don’t have to change unless you want them to. You made the claim before you knew what it meant, and I realise you may not wish to court just yet. If you are ready to take the next step, ask for me to braid your hair ... that will let the others know that we’ve made things official. From that point on I would expect them to treat you with all the respect a potential Queen under the mountain deserves.”

He was giving me the very thoughtful opportunity to allow things to go back to how they had been for the past week, back to quiet days spent in the saddle sharing brief and secretive exchanges of affection, and as tempting as it was to take up that offer it felt all too wrong in my heart now that I had openly expressed what it was I felt for him. My life would change beyond all recognition, However, I still very much wanted to pursue some happiness with this handsome dwarf that had somehow wormed his way into my heart. A low flirtatious laugh left my lips as I guided his hand from my jaw up into my thick mass of hair and then gave him a wink as I pressed my scalp into his warm palm.

“Give me your braid, and then you better kiss me ... or so help me Mahal, I will do it my damned self.”

I let out a rumble of content as I turned back around, once again basking in the rhythmic movements of that wide-toothed comb, and trying to visualise in my head the braids that he was putting into my hair with surprisingly nimble fingers given their large size. My mother had braided my hair enough times over the years that I could tell that the dwarf had styled the top half of my locks into a French braid and was now completely focused on a more elaborate fishtail design on the lower half of my hair.

The end of that braid was handed to me for a moment, giving me a change to inspect his meticulous workmanship, and I turned just in time to watch him reach into the back of his hair to remove a golden bead that I had only caught brief glimpses of over the last week or so. I could see the elaborate geometric lines that interlaced themselves over the surface of that bead, and couldn’t help but marvel at how well that golden bead complimented my darker hair as it was slipped into place on the braid. Thorin looked utterly content, his face relaxed and set in such a warm expression of love that it left me breathless for but a moment.

Damn, he was handsome when he let his guard down and allowed himself to be vulnerable.

One strong arm was wrapped around my body, pulling me in against him and I let out a slow breath of anticipation as he once again pressed a warm hand to my jaw - tilting my head up just enough that I was caught in the sheer intensity of his gray eyes for the briefest of seconds before his lips where pressed to mine. I’d been kissed before, but it had been nothing like I was currently experiencing. Thorin was not one that found it easy to verbally express his emotions, so he poured them into that kiss instead. The unabated joy that he’d found his One, the boundless relief to hear me claim him and the growing hope for a future full of love and laughter.

This was a moment that I could have lived in for an eternity, my arms snaking around his muscular torso as I committed to memory the warmth of his lips against my own, and how his beard prickled against the skin on my face. By the time that his lips finally left my own, I felt very kissed indeed, and my skin felt hot and flushed beneath his palm as he settled back to examine me from under those thick eyelashes of his. If I didn’t know any better than I’d say that the dwarf was proud of himself for leaving me in such a flushed state, and I would have most heartily insisted that he kissed me again if it wasn’t for Balin’s half whispered word of warning from where he sat nearer the fire.

“Wasn’t much dry wood to be found, the forest is absolutely sodden from the day’s rain. I’ve brought what I could find, most of it is greener than I would like, but it will be enough to warm those that need it and cook up the night’s meal.”

Oin’s voice reached my ears as I resettled my body in Thorin’s arms, resting my back in against his crooked leg and arranging the heavy furs around the lower portions of our bodies as I curled my own legs around his outstretched one. I was practically in Thorin’s lap at this point and didn’t much care if Oin or any of the other men saw me in such a position - they’d already seen us wrapped in a similar embrace of intimacy a few nights prior. I could feel the expected return of tension to Thorin’s body, how his back straightened and how his jaw clicked as he put on his more regal airs. This was a man that was used to being stoic. He would not be this master of public displays of affection right away, and I was going to have to let him grow into such things.

“It’s better than nothing, Oin.”

Balin waved his companion into the dry shelter, accepting the armful of branches from the greying dwarf and adding a few of them to the growing fire. Oin took up Balin on his silent offer, stepping more fully into the protective shelter of the cavelet and shaking the rain from his cloak as his gaze moved to where I sat with Thorin. Oin didn’t look the least bit surprised as his eyes moved up to examine my now braided hair, and I could have sworn I saw him give me a knowing wink as he lowered his head toward us in greeting. It left me wondering how many other dwarves suspected I was Thorin’s One, because if Kili, Fili and Oin had figured it out on their own then others must have done the same too.

“Dwalin has organised a system of watches while you was getting the Lady Walker settled. Kili and Fili are on first watch tonight and will be on duty until the moon reaches its zenith, at which point he cordially invites you to come and join him for a few hours, and then Gloin and Bofur will take over as the night turns into dawn.”

Thorin let out a thoughtful sound as his arms wrapped around me, his warm palms resting over my abdomen. Although I was now so comfortable and drugged up that I’d forgotten all about my cramps. He might have put on his regal airs, but he was still at least willing to be affectionate and to let others see him in a more vulnerable state than he was entirely used to.

“We should also set up a system, so that everyone has a change to get warm in the cave and to eat.”

Oin nodded his head at Thorin’s words, lowering his body down to sit in a spot not that far away and digging the large hearing horn out of his robes so that he could better hear what Thorin had to say.  
“Aye, though I suggest Bifur gets to spend as much time as he needs in the cave. The cold and the wet can’t be good for that old wound of his.”

It was a startling reminder of just how desperate Thorin’s position of leadership had become over the years. His more able and battle hardened kin had completely ignored his request for aid in this journey, and he’d been forced to seek the aid of those that were no longer at the peak of their physical prowess, or so green under the belt that they hadn’t even faced a real battle yet. I was going to have to ask Kili to be more intense during my daily training sessions, because if I could fight with some competency then at least there would be one more warrior to help when we finally had to fight.

“Agreed, though with some luck the weather should clear soon. What say you my dear?”

I blinked out of my stupor as Thorin addressed me, letting out a low ‘hmm’ as I tried to remember what had happened in the movies and books, and coming up short because neither had been very clear how long this horrible weather had lasted for.

“The fates of the world are not being very clear on the matter. All they say with some clarity is that the weather clears by the time we reach the Trollshaws. However, it has seemed to ease up over the last half hour and that gives some hope that it should dry out during the night ... sorry, I know that’s not very helpful at all.”

He pressed a warm kiss to my brow, surprising me with just how affectionate he was willing to now be in the company of the others.  
“It is most helpful indeed, for it gives hope for dryer days ahead, which is more than we knew before. Try to get some sleep, it will be some time yet before dinner is cooked and you’ve had a long day.”

I wanted to grumble and complain that I was fine, but he was right, it had been a long day and I was feeling more than a little tired now that I was settled in against his warm body. A yawn left me as I let my head drop to rest on his shoulder, pulling the warmth of his cloak further over myself and tucking part of it under my head so that I would have a more comfortable pillow than the hard mail of his shirt.

That night I once again dreamed of warm days spent wrapped up in the arms of my One, stood on the walled gate of our kingdom as we lazily watched the long summer grass drift too and fro in the valley that laid nestled between the arms of the lonely mountain.


	15. Training and Talks

I grumbled to myself as I watched the wispy outline of the clouds as they drifted high above me, wondering how on middle earth I’d ended up on my backside this time, and contemplated just staying in my rather comfortable position on the ground - because it certainly beat getting back up and having my ass handed to me once again by Kili. I knew he was only doing what I’d asked him to do, which was to ramp up my training to be battle ready sooner, but that didn’t make the whole thing any more bearable for me even after a long week of training. My muscles ached from the sheer effort of wielding a sword that wasn’t made for me, and I was sure that my skin was covered in more than a few bright bruises from landing on roots every time I fell to the ground.

My body twisted as I heard the dwarf approaching, rolling to my front so that I could grasp for my sword that laid on the ground where I had dropped it, and then pushed myself back up onto my legs that felt like they were now made of jelly. The fabric of my shirt clung to the sheen of sweat on my back, a horrible feeling that reminded me of just how grimy I must now be after so long on the road, and I tried desperately to not think about it as I circled the larger male again. I might well be exhausted, but I wasn’t about to back down just yet, there was going to be a time when this was all going to be put into practice, and the enemy wouldn’t stand there waiting for me to catch my breath like Kili was currently doing.

“You are smaller than him lass, use that to your advantage ... wait for him to come to you.”

Dwalin’s shouted advice told me that once again my training session had an audience. The first few sessions it had only been Thorin that would watch, a brooding presence that would step in the moment he felt Kili was pushing me too hard, but as the week had gone on Dwalin had decided that he would also supervise the lessons. The bald dwarf would occasionally shout words of encouragement at me, or grumbled tips on how I should set my stance, and every so often he would give me full-blown advice on how to not end up disarmed with my back on the ground.

I gave a slight nod of my head, setting my stance wide and firm as I brought my sword up in front of me in the well practiced guard that had been drilled into me time and time again. This entire week I’d been the aggressor, allowing the dwarf to lead me on a merry dance as he opened false openings in his defences and then easily disarmed me the moment that I got close to him. Maybe Dwalin was right, I was the smaller opponent here, and I’d never come out the victor if I kept throwing myself against the proverbial brick wall. A deep cleansing breath was taken in as I monitored the larger male, adjusting my stance to keep him in my sights and clenching my teeth the moment that he rushed in at me.

Two seconds I counted in my head, enough to allow the stockier dwarf to commit to his blow, and only once he had put his full weight behind it did I move. I ducked in under his swinging sword, very aware of the displaced air blowing over my air, and threw all my weight behind my blow as I bashed the flat of my blade against his sternum. I heard the gagging sound of air being stolen from the dwarf’s lungs, quickly burying that desire to pull back to apologize to him, and pressed my advantage while I still had it. My knee was brought up in a sharp movement, contacting a rather sensitive part of his anatomy, and watched as he crumbled to his knees in front of me. Ahh so dwarven men had the same ‘weaknesses’ as human men - I was going to have to stow that information in the back of my head for a later date.

“I yield ... I yield ... Mahal, did you have to go so hard?”

I let the tip of my sword lower to the ground, slightly leaning against the pummel as I watched the poor male that was currently nursing his bruised ego.

“Don’t be such a sore looser Kili, you didn’t hear me whining the dozen times you dropped me hard to the ground.”

Dwalin let out a rumble of laughter from the side-lines, a loud thumping sound telling me he’d slapped one of his enormous hands against his thigh in amusement as I put Kili firmly in his place.

“She’s got you there, lad.”

Kili opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it as he realised that there was no escaping the truth of my logic, and then slowly pushed himself to his feet with a low groan as he went to join his brother. I shook my head slowly as I pushed myself back up to my full height, sheathed the sword at my left hip and brushed down my clothing as I made my way toward where Dwalin and Thorin sat on a large boulder. Dwalin’s lips where curled in a slight smile, the pride clear on his darkened features even if he was trying his best to hide it, and I felt pleased that I was gaining the larger male’s approval - lord knows I would need people I could trust by my side in the months and years to come.

“Yer did good lass.”

“Did I? I still feel like I’m making very little improvement.”

Dwalin let out a harsh snort, those dark eyes of his watching Kili as he gingerly lowered himself down to sit with his brother, taking a bowl of food that was offered to him and cursing lowly in Khazdul as his lighter haired brother whispered something or other into his ear.

“Yer are trying, which is more than what I can say for that burglar of ours.”

I had asked Bilbo twice during the week if he’d like to join me in my training sessions, and the hobbit had answered that with a resounding no, and he’d stormed off to sit with Gandalf as if I’d given him the biggest insult in the world. My nose twitched as I stood in front of the two males, arms crossing over my chest as I motioned toward the spot between them and set my eyes on Dwalin who had a merry twinkle in his eye as if he knew what I was going to ask him.

“Scoot over, would you?”

The tattooed male watched me from the corner of his eye, pulled out his pipe and stretched out his legs in a rather orchestrated show of making himself comfortable on the boulder that he and Thorin were using as a sitting place. Those dark orbs of his continued to watch me as one large thumb packed pipe weed into the bowl of his pipe, and then he gave me an almost playful smile.

“Make me.”

I let out a frustrated breath, having neither the energy nor the desire for this little game right now, and gave Thorin a silent look that asked him to move over instead. The dark-haired male offered me an ever so slight smile, his arm moving to rest over one of his legs and watching me from under his lashes. Thorin had been a lot more at ease the last few days, happy to drop his guard down a little more often now that he’d braided my hair, and it was rather enjoyable to watch as he made that transformation. However, that look of relaxation had yet to fully make it on to his face. He was still ever as guarded in those facial expressions of his, and even I had trouble reading him when he was in that kingly persona. Right now Thorin was definitely in his more ‘kingly’ state of mind, and that surely meant that I was in for another lesson before I could relax for the afternoon.

“I won’t always be able to support you, there will be times where you will need to deal with stubborn dwarves on your own.”

His eyes were apologetic for just a moment - letting me know he hated the fact that he had to teach me this lesson, but it was for my good that they started this now. There were going to be times where his kingly duties pulled him away from my side, and I would be left to deal with obstinate dwarves that would try to use both my gender and my race against me. I couldn’t afford to ignore people like I did with Gandalf, and I certainly could no longer expect for Thorin to deal with things for me - I was going to have to learn to stand on my own two feet and be authoritative.

“My father once told me that as rulers we are to be as tough as the mountain our people mine, never to be swayed by the surrounding elements no matter how loudly they howl at us. Now, pull your shoulders back, stand up tall, and don’t be afraid to pull rank on him if you must.”

I closed my eyes a moment as I pictured that kingly stance that Thorin often had. My shoulders shifted backward as I pulled myself upright, trying to imagine that I stood against some wall that held my back absolutely straight, and trying to ignore how my shoulder and core muscles were screaming at me. A deep breath was taken in as I gripped my hands behind my body and set my face into as close to a look of pure queenly composure as I could manage. Only once I had gathered my nerves did I open my eyes, trying to at least feel more intimating than I must look, and stared down at the still grinning Dwalin who was patiently waiting for me to make him move.

“Make me? I am the future Queen under the Mountain, and this is how you speak to me? You dishonour yourself good sir, now kindly shift your arse so that I might sit next to my One.”

Dwalin lowered his head toward me respectfully and then shifted over so that there was enough space for me to sit between himself and Thorin.

“Such unladylike language from a queen.”

A scoff left me at Dwalin’s teasing words, lowering my body down onto the cool surface of the rock and letting out a slow grunt of content as I allowed my aching muscles to relax.

“Oh purleeeassee, if you want a ladylike queen then you can piss off elsewhere and find one. I refuse to change who I am just to please a bunch of bull headed men.”

Dwalin laughed loudly at my proclamation, eyes shining brightly with mirth, and carefully slapped a hand to my shoulder. I still found my eyes watering at just how strong he was, even when he held himself back from putting his full weight behind that blow, and it made me appreciate just how much effort Kili was making to hold back in our training sessions. I’d told him repeatedly that I could take a bit of pain, but in the end I was still a human and he would probably end up breaking something if he sparred with me as if I were a dwarf.

“Good and don’t you be letting them change you either. Mahal knows, we’re going to need a Queen with a bit of fire in her.”

It was good to hear Dwalin say that I didn’t need to change who I was on a fundamental level, lord knows it was going to be tough enough to be a queen given all I’d ever known in life was a low paid office job, but to lump some unattainable idea of lady like behaviour on top of it all? Nope, would not happen! I was a proud modern woman, and I refused to let myself be put into a box with all the other meek women in this world just because a man said I had to be there.

The warm weight of a strong arm wrapped around me as I was pulled in against Thorin’s side, his nose nestling into the side of my scalp and I let out a content sigh at the sensation of his lips pressing a soft kiss against my right temple. This was about as intimate as Thorin would allow himself to be in the company of one of his men, which was still a damn sight more than what it had been a few days prior - it was amazingly fast progress given how emotionally constipated he had been when I’d first met him.

“It still catches me off guard that you guys are so accepting of the way I behave. Do you remember the way the men in Bree looked at me, you’d have thought I had grown two heads.”

Dwalin snorted in amusement as if he remembered very well indeed the extremely rude little ditty my drunken self had sung in the Prancing Pony and the looks of horror it had gotten from the humans in the tavern that night.

“We’re not humans, lass - we actually like our womenfolk to have a bit of individuality and colour to them. What human males do to their women ... I wouldn’t wish that on a dog. It’s good fortune that she landed with us Thorin, those men would have broken her.”

I had lived a blessed life compared to what the human woman of this world went through. The women of this very medieval world, where not allowed to self govern on their own, would have been taught that the only path in life available to them was to be a quiet homemaker and mother to a brood of children. They didn’t get to have an education, nor did they get to hold a job, and they would have never had much say in political matters. A shiver ran down my spine as I realised how chillingly accurate Dwalin’s observation had been, for trying to fit into this world’s version of human society would have indeed broken me so badly that even I wouldn’t have recognised myself in the mirror.

Thorin must have thought I was shivering because of the afternoon chill, his shoulder shifting to pull me further under his arm so that he could wrap more of his heavy fur cloak around my body, and I appreciated its comforting weight even if I wasn’t that cold at all.

“I would rather not think about it.”

My One’s tone was curt and extremely short, as if he had seen more than enough of human behavior in his lifetime and would rather not think about what might have happened if Gandalf had dropped me off somewhere else in middle earth. It wasn’t just elves that the dwarves held great hatred for, and it left me feeling less than optimistic for the future that still laid on that very distant horizon. Thorin was going to have to learn to get along with both elves and humans at some point, especially in the first few years of trying to recolonize Erebor, and beyond that as Sauron’s power grew in Mordor. I didn’t remember too much about the books, but I certainly remembered that an attack was made on the lonely mountain during the War of the Ring. I let out a grunt as I scanned the ever darkening horizon and allowed my eyes to settle on that far off craggy outcrop of rocks that marked the beginning on the troll shaws.

“Agreed, it is far too fine an afternoon to be thinking about the ills of human culture.”

This would be the last peaceful night we would have for some time, as I was very sure that we had to be getting close to the end of May, and that meant that the encounter with the trolls had to be happening in the next day or so. My eyes followed the ridgeline on the horizon, my thoughts wandering to warm days spent studying in my back garden as I examined the distinctive folding of the rock bed that I could just about make out in the gathering gloom of the night. If Thorin and Dwalin didn’t want to discuss human culture, then perhaps they would be more interested in talking about something the dwarves did know something a hell of a lot about - rocks and ores.

“Some very distinctive thrust faulting out there. If I was to take a guess, there is going to be some rather interesting hydrothermal deposits in that ridge.”

“Lass?”

Dwalin’s voice was confused, as if he wasn’t sure what I was talking about. You had to be joking with me. Two years minoring in Geology and I had stumped a dwarf that had lived and worked with rocks for over a hundred long years.

“A Thrust Fault is a break in the earth’s crust where older rocks are pushed above younger ones, usually because of tectonic activity. Sometimes that uplift exposes hydrothermal deposits, which is what you get when minerals that are dissolved in hot spring water and percolated deep into the earth’s crust where they gather in pre-existing fissures. Those deposited minerals can become a whole variety of different ores if you give them enough pressure, time and exposure to extreme heat. I must of course state that it has been several years since I took lessons in Geology, and there has been a lot of stuff that I’ve forgotten simply because I wasn’t actively using that knowledge.”

I felt like I’d lost him a fair bit, he still looked confused although he had a general understanding of what I was talking about, and ran a hand over his bald scalp in such a way that I let out a slight sound of frustration as I motioned toward the ridge with my right hand.

“Mahal’s sake ... is there gold bearing quartzite in those hills or not Dwalin, because I would put good money on there being some out there.”

The longer I was around the group, the more I acted like a dwarf and that included using their god’s name in vain. Thorin let out an amused laugh against the top of my head, his free hand fumbling in his robes to pull out his fancy pipe and twist it slightly so that he could no doubt stare into the bowl with a critical eye as if wondering he could make what was left of his pipe weed last longer. Supplies where definitely running a little on the short side, a result of several long weeks on the road, and Ori had already resorted to hunting rabbits during our evening rests to supplement whatever was left in the packs.

“Aye lass, I reckon there might well be gold to be found. What else did your parents teach you?”

Oh bless him, Dwalin thought that I was home educated like some women in this world might be if they were lucky enough to be born into a rich household - though that education might only go as far as reading and writing.

“I wasn’t home educated Dwalin. In my world, both girls and boys are sent to school from a very early age by their parents to start their education. Maths, English, History, Sciences and Biology are but a few of the subjects that we can learn in our most formative years, and if one is lucky enough that study can continue into college. I majored in Business Studies, with a minor in Geology ... not that it did me any good, you can’t get a decent job in the field anymore without five years’ experience first.”

I knew I sounded bitter, but I couldn’t help it. Thousands of dollars had been flushed down the drain on the advice of my elders telling me I’d need a degree to get anywhere in my life, and I had ended up in a basic office job anyway after finding out it wasn’t as easy to get into my field of choice as I’d been led to believe. Dwalin offered me a smile that was positively gentle for a gruff man like himself, giving a very brief look to Thorin as if asking silent permission to touch me before patting a comforting hand to my knee.

“I reckon yer learning will do you plenty of good in the years to come.”

To them it must seem like all their Durin’s days had come at once, their King had been given a One that had been so well educated by the modern world that she must seem like a damned genius to them. I blushed brightly as I thought of all the good that education could do for their once great kingdom - I could prevent epidemics by improving sanitation, could teach some basic biology so at the very least they would have better healthcare, and I might even improve how they mined in the mountains. How they had gone about it in the movies looked less than safe for the dwarves that had to go into the mines, fancy having massive shafts in the mountain you lived in and sending men down on ropes to get that precious ore.

“Ironies never cease to amaze me, I took most of those lessons as a lark, and now they will be the most useful ones as I move forward in my life.”

Taking geology had been something I’d done purely to sate my curiosity and to feed my natural desire to know more about the world around me - it was never supposed to serve any actual use in my life beyond being a bit of fun. I stared out into the growing darkness of the night, accepting a bowl of stew from Bombur as he handed out the night’s meal, and wondered softly to myself if Mahal had planned all this right from the very start. He’d forged a future queen of his people into a strange world, had her learn everything she would ever need to lead her people to greatness, and then had a meddling wizard pull her into this one right at the very moment that she was needed the most.

I took in a deep breath, taking in the familiar scent of rabbit meat as I settled myself in against Thorin’s firm torso and ate my meal in the growing knowledge that perhaps I was right where I was always supposed to be.


	16. Meddlesome Wizards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Moly, I can't believe this story has 1000 hits now.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your wonderful support <3

A shiver ran down my spine as we rode into the open field, a sense of deep foreboding filling me as Thorin brought our pony to a halt in the shadow of what once had been a warm home full of laughter. There was very little of the house left standing for me to see, just a few tumbledown walls that looked like they might fall over in a strong breeze, and a half collapsed roof that I wouldn’t trust if my life depended on it. The pony was circled around with a confident pull on the reins, revealing the sight of sleep deprived faces and sagging bodies in the saddle. We had pressed hard to make up for the poor weather, and some men were finding the pace exhausting - they needed the rest, as did the ponies.

“We’ll make camp here for the night.”

I shifted forward in the saddle as Thorin moved to dismount with one fluid movement, one of his hands patting the neck of the pony in silent thanks for the work it had done for the day, and the other lifting in a silent offer to help me down. His help wasn’t needed, I was getting the hang of this whole riding a pony business, but I appreciated the offer never the less. My hand slipped into his, using his firm grip for support as I slipped down and then pressed my lips to his bearded cheek as I stepped away from the warmth of his body for the first time in hours.

“I’m going for a pee, don’t give me that look - I won’t go far, promise.”

Thorin snorted as if he thought he had every right to be worried that I’d leave his side for even a moment, I’d been stupidly tense all day despite my best efforts, and that meant he knew there was danger here even if I wasn’t outwardly saying there was. I still wasn’t entirely sure if this was a point of time that could be avoided or not, my hammering heart begging me not to put my friends in danger, and my logical brain told me I couldn’t leave dark forces to roam the lands unchecked. A barely perceivable nod of his head was given and then slipped his hands behind his back as he stalked off toward the ruined building, shouting instructions as he went.

“A please wouldn’t go amiss my love.”

He was a king; he gave orders and expected them to be obeyed. Thorin had probably never said please one time in his long life when requesting his subjects to do something, and while I didn’t expect him to use modern manners all the time, it would be nice to see him make an attempt at being a different King than his forebears. I didn’t know what kind of people Thrain or Thor had been, but I could see hints of them in Thorin when he slipped back into that stiff demeanour of his. They had been hard men that had ruled with an iron fist, and I didn’t want that for Thorin - he had the love of his people in spades and it’d be a shame if he lost that level of affection by trying to emulate the rule of his ancestors once he was in Erebor.

I made my way to a broken field wall just on the edge of the forest that encircled our camp for the evening; it was a lot more open than I would have liked for a place to pee, but I refused to go any further into the treeline even if it was still light out. My body ducked down behind that meagre privacy shield, and I felt contented by the knowledge that my travelling companions knew when to turn a blind eye. A snort left me as I saw to my current bodily need and felt just a little saddened by the knowledge that I had been on the road so long that I’d mastered the art of the ‘shimmy’.

Middle earth didn’t have loo roll, and I’d learned the hard way that you couldn’t always trust the leaves in this damned place - thank the lords my hands had reacted to this worlds version of poison ivy before I’d used it to clean more intimate parts of myself. I was a modern woman that was used to having a male doctor, but that didn’t mean that I was comfortable about the thought of going to Oin if I had any kind of issue that required me to flash the poor man to get it seen to. I was pretty sure that I had a heavy blush of embarrassment on my face as I finished to my need, brushed myself down as best I could and returned to the group.

Kili and Fili lingered just on the edge of the forest, seeing to the ponies, talking to themselves in low tones and laughing loudly every so often at some inside joke they shared. The pair were always in good spirits when I saw them, and it made my heart ache to think of the fate that awaited them in the battle of five armies. Oin and Gloin where sat not that far away from the pair, tending to a small fire that was only just starting to send a trail of smoke into the air, and I was sure that within the hour we would have food to eat courtesy of Bombur who had his nose burrowed deep in the saddlebag that carried out provisions.

A broad smile was offered to me by Bifur as I stepped in among the milling dwarves, a few harsh words of Khazdul leaving the man even as his fingers wove elegantly in the sign language of his folk. I didn’t understand a word he was saying, but I got the general gist from his facial expressions that he wanted to know if I was doing okay after the day’s travel.

“I’m doing just fine now that I’m getting used to things Bifur, thanks for asking.”

“You understand him?”

Oin looked up from the fire as if he hadn’t expected me to know what his cousin was saying to me, and I lifted my right hand into the air to give a slight rocking motion that said ‘maybe’.

“Not a damned word, but his facial expressions are readable enough that I can guess what it is he’s saying.”

The greying dwarf gave me a bright smile, poking at the growing fire with a long stick, and turned his thoughtful eyes to his red-haired companion that was watching me with a pair of intense brownish-green eyes. I didn’t know Gloin that well yet; he was a fierce-looking man that spent a lot of his time in quiet contemplation, and I still wasn’t entirely sure how to break the ice with him.

“She’ll have to learn, can’t have her not knowing the languages of her people.”

I balked at Oin’s open suggestion to Gloin, shaking my head most enthusiastically and waving my hands slightly in a wild gesture that I hoped would convey just how awkward the idea of learning Khazdul made me feel.

“Khazdul is sacred, Oin ... I’ve far from earned the right to learn it.”

Gloin’s lips flicked just enough that I could tell that he approved of my response to Oin’s offer to teach me Khazdul. I might well be wearing Thorin’s courting braid but that didn’t mean I was yet fully bound to their king, in Gloin’s eyes there was still a chance that I might decide that this wasn’t for me, and that I would walk away to pursue a quiet life elsewhere. Oin seemed less concerned. Of the two dwarves he knew me the best and was already grinning at me with that fatherly smile that all the older looking dwarves wore when they looked at me.

“You are One with Thorin, that is reason enough in my eyes for you to learn. We’ll be reaching Erebor before the end of October if we maintain good pace - It’s not enough time to teach the basics, let alone hope to have you master enough to be conversational.”

Oin couldn’t afford to wait for me to feel like I had earned the right to learn the language, he had to get started right now because seven months was a stupidly short about of time to learn a new language in - let alone the two ‘secret’ languages that the dwarves used amongst themselves. This was the life I had chosen for myself, the road I had chosen to walk, and I couldn’t afford to keep throwing obstacles on that path just because I wanted to feel worthy of learning the things I would need in my future travels. I had to get over myself, this wasn’t just about me anymore and there was no place for selfishly avoiding things that made me uncomfortable.

“Then we get started in the morning. I trust you to pick someone from among the company that’d be happy to teach me, I know Thorin would not mind tutoring me, but I’m going to have to build a rapport with the rest of the men at some point.”

I had to win minds and hearts if I expected any of them to follow me, and that would not happen if I spent all my time with only a select few of them. Raised voices drew my attention away from Oin, my eyes instantly settling on where Thorin was in the middle of a very heated argument with our wizard in the shade of the ruins. Thorin had a face like thunder. His brows settled in a deep scowl and a dark look in his eyes that said he was seconds away from punching the insolent wizard in the face. I’d never seen the dwarf in a full-blown state of furious wrath before, his anger was usually cold and all too terrifying, but this was something different and so very primal that it had me rubbing my fingers against my chest to still the growing rage that threatened to engulf me.

“Is it normal for me to be this empathic when it comes to his emotions?.”

Oin nodded his head, a motion that I caught right out of the corner of my eyes.

“You are one heart and one soul, lass. The closer you get, the more you share, though I must admit I do not know how such a bond works between a human and a dwarf ... we’re in uncharted territory here.”

Yeah, great, thanks for reminding me that this was something so far out of the realm of normal that no one knew what the heck to expect from such an unusual forging of souls. I took a deep calming breath in an attempt to push away the emotions that bubbled over from my One and shook my head ever so slightly as I brushed my hands over my shirt to smooth out some wrinkles that had set in the fabric after my long day in the saddle.

“Ori is our scribe, right? Please ask him to sit with me daily. We might not know how things work right now, but once we have enough data points recorded down, we should start to see a predictable range of what is going to be normal within this bond.”

I’d never run a psychological study before, and had certainly never thought that I might have to be the centre of one, but it was something I needed to do if I was to have any hope of understanding how the bond worked. The more information that I recorded down the more I could say: ‘okay I fully feel X sensation over the bond, but I barely experience Y thing, and I felt nothing at all when it comes to Z thing’. It was important that I understood what my baseline normal was going to be, because once I had that, I could know the difference between soul bond stuff and a serious health issue that should probably be looked at.

“Forgive me, Oin. I really must calm him down ... I’m tense enough as it is, and he’s going to give me an anxiety attack if he continues raging like that.”

This was all so new that I did not know how to defend myself against that primal feeling that drifted over from Thorin, and it was not mixing at all well with my pre-existing anxieties regarding what was going to happen later on in the night. I gave Oin a low tip of my head in a further silent apology that I had to cut our conversation short and made my way toward the building just as Gandalf stormed away from those ruins with a long purposeful stride that said he was not in the best of moods.

Gandalf caught me just as I was about to pass him on my way to Thorin, his strong arm wrapping around my upper arm and preventing any further progress forward. His old wrinkled face was darkened by thunderous anger, and those blue eyes of his no longer held any of the kindness they once had as he rounded on me with a look that said he was just about done with people ignoring his advice.

“You should use the gift you possess to convince that stubborn dwarf of yours to seek shelter and advice in Rivendell.”

My reaction to his touch was instant and visceral, that festering anger coming to a breaking point within me in a single blink of an eye, and I brought my foot snapping downward onto his with as much of my weight behind it as I could muster. Gandalf let out a loud curse in a rather harsh language I didn’t understand, and when he didn’t, let go of me as fast as I would have liked I gave him a good kick in the shins that drew another curse from him as he finally let me free of his grip and shot me a look that was equal parts disappointment and annoyance.

“You are not to touch me ever again, do you hear me ... never! You bring me here and then have the audacity to tell me how and when to use my gift? I ain’t your pawn Gandalf, if you wanted some meek little lap dog you should have chosen some other women! Now piss off for the night and leave us be.”

I tossed my head into the air, feeing the heavy weight of the bead on my braid as it bobbed around my shoulders, and turned my back to the wizard as I stormed away from him with as much majestic anger as I could muster - which wasn’t that hard given how furious I was right now. My foul mood followed me into the dappled light of the ruins, my eyes scanning the area and settling on the large frame of my One as he paced back and forth in the deepened shadows at the back of the ruins.

He brought to mind a highly sprung predator that was looking for prey, the muscles in his neck incredibly tense and his movements agitated as he stalked the confines of the ruined home. A pair of stormy grey eyes lifted to catch my own, still darkened at the edges by his unbridled rage, and I couldn’t help but shiver in excitement under that gaze as it slowly drunk in the curves of my body.

“The wizard would have us seek aid from the very people that betrayed my people.”

Thorin’s voice was deep and rough, as if the heavy storm that raged within his eyes had now consumed every part of his being.

“I know ... the insolent cur grabbed me on the way past and ordered me to use my gift to ‘convince the stubborn dwarf of the need to seek shelter and advice in Rivendell’. Who does he think he is, Thorin? I’m a Queen, not some basic bitch he can push around as he pleases ... next time he touches me I’m going to kick more than his fucking shins.”

Sometimes I could forget how quickly the dwarf could move when he wanted to. One moment he was pacing at the back of the ruins and the next I was being pulled into a blazingly passionate kiss that had me forgetting all about my thunderous foul mood. One of his muscular arms wrapped itself around my slim waist, pulling me firmly against his broad chest, and I let out a grumbled sound of approval as I felt the thick fingers of his other hand snake into my braided hair to caress the back of my scalp.

A shudder traversed down my spine as his tongue slipped over my lower lip, silently begging for passage within, and I all too eagerly granted his request. This was no sharing of tender emotions. It was a fierce battle for dominance, and I loved the taste of faint pipe weed that lingered on his tongue as he explored the depths of my mouth. The rumbled sound that left him as I slipped my right hand into the thick mass of his hair was intoxicating, creating a deep well of heated arousal that pooled between my legs and left me gagging for more. I slipped one hand into the deep recesses of his deep blue coat and lamented the fact that he had way too many layers on because right now all I wanted was to feel his warm skin beneath my palm.

“You really aught to be more careful about the kinds of claims your making my dear, one day I will take them more seriously and make you mine.”

His breath was warm as he moved to pepper soft kisses over my face, and I was very sure that I’d gone very intense shade of red indeed as I realised that once again my anger had gotten the better of me and I’d laid claim to something that I wasn’t exactly ready for.

“Then I’m going to need you to be calmer next time the wizard pushes your buttons. I’m feeling your emotions over the bond that we share, and your rage was so strong that it hit me like a tonne of rocks ... I had no defence against it at all.”

The weight of his forehead resting against my own was a balm that I didn’t even know that I needed, those grey eyes of his much softer now and full of apologetic guilt at the knowledge that his anger had affected me so greatly. His fingers slipped from my hair so that he could rub the calloused pad of his thumb softly against the underside of my jaw, and I tipped my head up slightly so that more of that sensitive skin was exposed to his tender attentions. 

“I will try my best, but can make no promises. Dwarves can burn with fierce fury toward those that have wronged us in the past, and we hold a strong hatred for elves in particular. That he would ask me to seek council with Lord Elrond and use the heirlooms of my people as a bartering tool against me ... it’s an insult beyond all measure.”

I let out a slow breath as I curled both of my arms around his neck, absent-mindedly combing my fingers through his wavy hair as I talked.

“A wise man once told me that sometimes we have to walk the hard path to do what is best for the kingdom. Sure you can hold on to the hatred of past slights if you so wish, but that is the easy way out Thorin and I think deep down you know it too. It is long past time for Thorin Oakenshield to learn how to forgive and forget past slights against him, because if he can’t learn how to do that then his kingdom is doomed to fail before he’s even claimed it.”

The Thorin that I had seen in the movies had held on to his festering hate and had allowed his greed for gold to turn him into his grandfather - a paranoid leader that had isolated his kingdom from old allies and had eventually led his people to naught but destruction. I softened the set of my eyes, thumbs rubbing against the edges of his jawline as he relaxed into that loving touch.

“A King that can admit that mistakes have been made, and that he wishes to make amends with old allies for the betterment of his kingdom regardless of who is at fault - that’s the truest and bravest King of them all.”

I didn’t think he was going to saunter up to an elf and be all sunshine and rainbows just yet, this was sixty-odd years of ingrained hatred that I was dealing with here, and it would not be that easy for him to set that aside. My right palm shifted round to rest over the side of his face, fingers affectionately carding into the dark hair of his beard even as I tipped myself up onto my toes so that I could press my lips to his own once again. Gone was the passion from before. This time it was slow and loving - a promise of all the things he could have in this mortal realm if he decided he wanted to be a better King than his grandfather had been.

He might not be a King that was wealthy in the form of gold or other worldly riches, but he would be wealthy in the love of his people for the rest of his days all because he had decided to be the bigger person and take the first brave step to trying to forge some king of peace among the kingdoms of Men, Elves and Dwarves

That was the kind of King I could love, the kind of King I would willingly call my husband, and the kind of King that I would happily have children with should we be blessed enough to have such things in our lives.


	17. Danger, Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration for this chapter : Danger Danger by Club Danger

The tension was palpable as the night deepened, a quiet hush settling over the lands as not even the owls dared to break the silence, and I found that I really had little appetite for the stew that Bombur had cooked up for the night. Not even the steady body of Thorin that I was currently lounged against most comfortably soothed my jangling nerves, the constant shimmy of fight-or-flight responses leaving me on edge as I stared out into the darkness. The dwarves knew I was on edge, knew that my current mood was far divorced from my usual demeanour of contented happiness, and more than one of them had large hands wrapped around the pummel of their swords as if danger would strike at any moment. 

When it did strike, it was totally out of the blue, the broad features of Fili thrown into stark contrast by the fire as he stumbled into the camp with his panting younger brother not that far behind him, and I had to hold steady to my bowl of strew as Thorin jerked forward in sudden awareness that something had gone terribly wrong.

“Trolls ... they have Bilbo!”

A firm hand carefully pushed me forward, the chill of the night air suddenly assaulting my back as Thorin got to his feet and pulled his heavy sword from the sheath that rested on his right hip. The sound of weapons being drawn all around me told me that the rest of the company were readying themselves to rescue the hobbit, and I stumbled up onto my feet as the sudden desire to help bloomed within my chest.

“Bifur! Stay with Grace, she is under your protection now.”

I opened my mouth to complain, then shut it again in an instant as I remembered I had only just started my training with Kili a week ago, and was bound to get myself into trouble the instant I burst into that clearing that the trolls had made their camp in. This wasn’t a movie that I could rewind and start over again if something bad happened, this was real life and the trolls could easily kill me. An all too brief kiss was pressed to my brow. And then Thorin was gone - rushing into the darkness of the forest with the rest of the company following him with serious expressions on their darkened faces. 

My lips pressed into a firm line of deep worry as I settled back down beside the fire, eyes catching the over emphasised movements of Bifur’s fingers as he moved to sit with me, and letting out a low sound of thanks as I realised he was slowing down his use of iglishmêk. Not that I understood what any of those symbols his fingers made meant, but it definitely helped me to see each individual one now that he wasn’t rushing through them as he usually did. He had a reassuring look on his face that said ‘they will be fine, they are capable warriors’ and I shrugged my shoulders as I lowered my bowl to rest in between my crossed legs.

“I know, but that will not stop me worrying Bifur. The future grows murkier by the day ...”

Bifur tilted his head to one side, the axe embedded in his head flicking amber as it reflected the light of the fire, and flashed another couple of unfamiliar sigils at me in a questioning manner. I could see why Balin was so eager to start my language lessons. The dwarves in the company were proficient speakers of western, but they had to be in the minority in the population at large. My brows lifted toward my hairline as I tried to mimic the shapes that he had made with his fingers and then let out a slow breath of frustrated air.

“This is going to take more than seven months isn’t it ...”

There was no real rush for me to learn Khazdul or iglishmêk, it would likely take up to a year before most of the dwarven populace returned to Erebor, and I was sure that one of the company would be more than happy to serve as my interpreter should the need come for such a thing. Bifur gave me a warm smile, his facial expression becoming one of gentle reassurance as he flicked his dexterous fingers into another series of symbols and shapes that gave me a general impression of ‘No one is going to judge you if it takes longer’

“I know ... I’m just my worst critic, and I feel like I have to try harder because I’m human. I’m not daft Bifur, I know there are going to be dwarves that will not approve of me because of what I am.”

Bifur made a rather impassioned symbol with his hands, motioned toward me with one hand and then in the general direction that the rest of the company had left in with a few rough words of Khazdul that showed that he found the language barrier as frustrating as I did. Not that I needed much explanation for what the sign he had made meant. His gesturing had been more than enough for me to put two and two together as I formed my fingers clumsily into the rather complicated shape that he had just made at me.

“One.”

My companion nodded enthusiastically, though I didn’t entirely know if me being One’d with Thorin was going to be enough to win over the more conservative dwarves in the populace. I was the outsider in more ways than one - a low born, human woman that had somehow gained the affections of a king who’d been single for over a hundred years now. I let out a breath as I realised I was allowing my anxious mind to jump to the worst possible outcomes.

“If you think that will be enough, then I will trust your judgement on the matter.”

I lifted my bowl from between my legs, stirring the broth with the wooden spoon, and forced myself to eat the rather generous amount of broth that had been spooned into the bowl by Bombur. The portly male was trying to feed me up, and it was taking a lot of effort on my part to remind myself that I was in a survival situation and needed to be eating more calories than I was used to daily. I couldn’t afford to let my nerves put me off my food, especially if the wargs attacked us tomorrow as they had in the original story - this would be the last meal I was going to eat for some hours so I might as well stuff my face now while I could.

My eyes lifted to the heavens, I had come from a world were a multitude of devices had tracked the passage of time for me, and the inability to tell the difference between ten minutes of time and an hour had been bugging me a lot more lately. During the day it wasn’t so bad, it was easy to track the sun on a fairly cloudless day and it would gradually grow darker as the day gave way to night. The night however was a different beast all together, a perpetual darkness that would sometimes drag out into eternity and left me wondering if I’d stepped into a timeless void. I could no longer hear the sounds of battle drifting from the forest so that said that the trolls had captured Bilbo, but it was not yet light enough in the sky to tell me that dawn was close.

An idea slipped into my head as I finished the last spoonful of broth, a crazy idea that I couldn’t entirely resist now that it had made itself known - what if I went to help Bilbo distract the trolls from the safety of the forest? I lowered the bowl to the ground as I pushed myself back up to my feet, brushing down my clothing and scanning the camp for a weapon just in case this all went to hell in a handbasket. All I could find was one of Fili’s knives that had been stashed in his pack for the night. It was far from ideal, but it was better than nothing as I attempted to walk toward the forest.

Bifur blocked my way in an instant, panicked Khazdul leaving him as he motioned back toward the spot I’d just vacated, he’d been asked to protect me and wasn’t about to let me walk into danger.

“They need assistance Bifur, and I can’t just allow myself to sit there now fate has presented a way to aid our friends.”

I felt bad using my ‘gift’ to convince the dwarves to do anything. It was a dirty little trick - the lowest of the low, but I couldn’t just leave Bilbo to face the trolls down without a bit of backup. Dwalin’s advice to use my smaller body to my advantage came in handy as I easily side-stepped the bulkier male, feeling beyond terrible that I was behaving more like one of Thorin’s head strong nephews, and quickly made my way toward the darkened understory of the forest. I could hear Bifur cursing to himself from a few paces behind me, and I hissed a ‘shhh’ toward the male as I darted from tree to tree, gathering sizable stones along the way. My plan would not work if my male companion alerted the trolls to our presence before I even had time to execute it.

“Uh, the secret to cooking dwarf is to skin them first.”

The hobbit’s panicked voice drifted through the trees as I approached, my eyes catching slight glimpses of the pale grey skin of three large monstrous beings, and trying to push down the immense wave of panic that rushed up to meet me as I laid eyes on a troll for the very first time. The movies had made them out to be comical beings despite their massive bulk, but the reality of the beasts was far removed from anything that Jackson could have ever dreamed up. They were heavily muscled, ugly as all sin, and radiated such a powerful aura of predatory malice that I was pretty sure I would die on the spot if they so much as looked at me.

I shook my head as Bifur snuck up beside me, determined to not let the pant wetting terror completely engulf me as I handed my gathered stones toward him. My lips silently mouthed for him to throw the stones from the darkness of the forest to distract the trolls, and that he should constantly move about as he did this so not as to draw the trolls to his location. The others were tussled up in heavy sacks, and could not come to our aid should we get caught. A breath was taken in as I motioned for him to skirt around to the right-hand side of the clearing, giving the dwarf a rather exaggerated movement of my arms that I hoped would come across as ‘I’ll be fine’ before making my way into the dense undergrowth of the forest.

“What a load of rubbish, I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on ... scoff ‘em all I say,”

The troll’s voice was harsh and gravelly as he spoke, and my brain focused on the absolute ridiculous notion that not only did they talk, they did so with a rather thick British accent. Another shake of my head was given to remind myself that Bilbo and the dwarves were in trouble, and they couldn’t afford for me to stand here musing on the dialect of the fell creatures of darkness in the world. I took in another deep breath, hunkering down into the shadows of a bush as I gathered up a couple of stones and sang in as eerie a voice as I could manage - allowing my fear to add a warbling tremor to the edges of my tone that certainly sounded spooky enough to my ears.

“Noises, noises rattle in the night  
Rattle in the night, rattle in the night  
Noises, noises rattle in the night  
Rattle in the night, rattle in the night  
Noises noises rattle in the night  
Rattle in the night, rattle in the night  
Noises noises rattle in the night  
Rattle in the night.”

I hefted the rock in my hand, taking a guess at its weight as I cocked my elbow, and then flung it at the nearest troll with as much strength as I could muster. The troll let out a startled sound of surprise, eyes wide in fears as its dark eyes moved to pinpoint this new assailant that had made itself known. The slimmest of the three trolls was about to move in my direction when another stone bounced harmlessly off the side of his head, drawing another startled sound from the beast as he turned swiftly on those massive legs of his in the direction that the stone had been thrown from.

“Wot ..... the forest is alive ...”

The distraction gave me all the chance that I needed to move from my current hiding spot, moving as swiftly as I could whilst also trying to be as silent as humanly possible and was silently glad that I had backup in the form of Bifur somewhere in the night's gloom. I could see Bilbo shifting from the corner of my eyes, his weight lifting from the balls of his feet, up onto his toes, and then back down again as he sought to use this fresh development to his advantage.

“Yes ... you really aught to be careful ... legend has it this forest is very protective of dwarves, I’ve heard it does not take kindly to trolls eating them ... I wouldn’t chance it.”

Bilbo looked so young that it was easy to forget that he had an agile brain behind that mop of curly hair on his head. I slipped in behind the protective cover of a large bush, taking my chance to survey the scene, and wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the dwarves straining to get out of the heavy sacks they were currently trapped in. Kili was already shouting an enamoured request to the forest to save him from the trolls, and I couldn’t help but let out a rather muffled snort at the sound of Dwalin entreating the forest to smite the foul beasts on the spot - as if I had the power to smite anything.   
The lanky troll blinked slowly, shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care what the forest did to him, and pulled the portly Bombur off the ground as if the dwarf weighed nothing at all. I ferreted around in the undergrowth, found another large stone, and flung it in at the troll where it bounced off the thick skin of its shoulder alongside a second that came barrelling in from somewhere to the east of the clearing. 

“Danger, danger  
Run for your life, run for your life  
Danger, danger  
Run for your life, run for your life, oh  
Danger, danger”

I infused some anger into my vocals, trying to play into Bilbo’s narrative that the forest was angry and would not take kindly to the dwarves being eaten. Bombur let out a pained sound as he was dropped rather hastily from the ground, and I muttered a soft apology to the poor dwarf as I threw another rock that I had just found on the earthy ground, and flung it at the beasts before rushing into the darkness of the forest to my right as the largest of the three settled his gaze a little too close to my current hiding spot for my comfort. Bilbo wrinkled his nose, the heavy wrinkles cast into stark relief by the fire as he contemplated Bombur’s crumpled position on the ground, and then turned back to the trolls.

“See, it’s really not worth it.”

Bilbo shrugged as if that was all the explanation the trolls needed and the bulky leader of the large trolls gave a loud scoff as if he heartily disagreed when they had a nice big dinner in front of them ready for the eating.

“What would you have us do then? Let them all go?”

“Well ....”

The hobbit let out a grunted sound as the large troll reached over to push at him with a truly enormous hand, the curiosity toward the hobbit now being replaced with anger as he realised he was being led on a merry chase by the much smaller humanoid. This wouldn’t do at all, the dwarves were stocky enough to take a bit of manhandling from the trolls, but the poor little hobbit could not. My fingers wrapped around yet another rock as I scooped it from the ground, and then I stepped out of the protective darkness of the night as I threw it at the beast with a growled sound of pure rage.

“Oi! Dick head! Leave him alone.”

Three massive bodies rounded on me in an instant, hungry eyes fixing on me as I stood in the dappled shade of the undergrowth that was no longer as dark as it had once been, and I wrapped shaking fingers around the hilt of the knife that I had borrowed as I attempted to stare down the trolls.

“A woman ... perhaps we should eat her instead?”

“The dawn will take you all!”

Gandalf could not have planned this any better if he tried, his booming voice echoing through the forest as he surmounted a rock to the left of me and brought his staff slamming down into a boulder. The hard rock split neatly in two as if it were made of butter, spilling the bright sunlight of the dawn into the small forest clearing, and I had to shield my gaze from the sudden assault of all too bright daylight. By the time my eyes had adjusted the trolls had turned to unmoving stone, their twisted bodies now forever frozen in the last pose they had ever made in their life and I couldn’t help but laugh in relief as Gandalf hopped down from the boulder with surprising spryness for someone of his age.

Relieved laughter erupted from the group, and I shrugged at Bifur as the greying dwarf stepped out of the forest and made several agitated movements with his hands. He was visibly annoyed that I’d willingly put myself into danger, but also exceedingly proud that I’d stood my ground against a foe much bigger than myself in defence of a friend. The dwarves of Erebor were going to have to get used to me being in dangerous situations like this, it wasn’t as if they could protect me from every single thing given the highly volatile nature of the later portion of this journey. I waved off the male’s concern with a bright smile, making my way toward the pile of bound dwarves resting in the protective lee of another large boulder, and grinned playfully at a rather amused looking Thorin.

“Well, well, well - what do we have here?”

I couldn’t resist the temptation to flirt with him a little as I knelt down by his side, leaning in over his bound body so that I could whisper into his ear as I worked on the thick knots that held the top of his sack tightly closed.

“It’s not often I have the King bound and at my mercy, perhaps I should have him earn his release.”

The tensing in his jaw told me he had not expected such a flirtatious advance from me, his ears flushing a deep red and eyes partially closing to examine me with a heated gaze that made my insides turn inside out in excitement. I chuckled under my breath, wondering if I should torment him a little more by taking way too long to untie the knots, and deciding against it as the grumpy muttering of Dwalin from beside me reminded me that Thorin wasn’t the only one that needed freeing from his bounds. My fingers made swift work of the knots, grunting in satisfaction as I finally loosened the sack and tapped Thorin’s chest with a palm of my hand.

“I’ll add this to your tab, I expect repayment within the week.”

“When you are quite finished woman!.”

Dwalin’s grumbled comment was enough to draw a laugh from me as I stepped away from Thorin to give him space to free himself of his sack, my hands lowering to rest on my hips as I looked down at the bald dwarf with a raised brow.

“Now, now, is that any way to talk to your future Queen, master Dwalin?”

Dwalin let out a deep rumbling laugh as I playfully teased him. He knew very well that I wasn’t actively pulling rank on him, and that this was all fun banter on my behalf. This had become a game between us over the last few days, a way for me to practice being authoritative when standing up to males much larger than myself, and I had to admit that I was rather enjoying the close friendship I was building with the surly dwarf.

“My lady, if you would be so kind to release me from this bag, I would very much appreciate it.”

I pressed my palm over my heart, giving the male a slight tip of my head as I chuckled under my breath and then lowered myself beside him to help him out of his sack feeling beyond elated that we’d all come through the night alive, and yet also worried that I’d thrown the future of the world into flux by inserting myself into the events of the night.

Oh well, no time to worry about that now when there were more dwarves yet to free and a troll horde to find.


	18. The Troll Horde

The stench that hit my nose as I stepped past the threshold of the cave was beyond anything I had ever experienced in my life. A putrid festering smell that hit the back of my throat and left me retching uncontrollably. The Firm weight of a warm hand was pressed against the middle of my back, rubbing in slow comforting circles, and I turned to meet Fili’s concerned eyes as he slowed to a stop beside me. I’d not had much of a change before now to note the color of his eyes. They were a distinct shade of hazel that could swing from light blue to pale green dependent on the lighting, and right now in the cave's darkness they very much bordered on the distinctive slate-blue his uncle’s eyes favoured.

“Jesus fucking Christ. It smells worse than a back alley in the middle of summer in here.”

Fili laughed at my rough use of English, a light musical sound that was dissimilar to the deep rumbling sounds the rest of his blood relations favoured. It left me wondering what his father had been like. The blonde had some very distinctive features that definitely did not come from Durin stock. He had a much sterner brow than Thorin did, and a slightly longer nose than the rest of his kin. 

“Who is this person you speak of in such harsh tones?”

I attempted to straighten up once again. Watching the crowd of dwarves milling in the cave's darkness and having no desire to delve any deeper into the ‘horde’. If it smelt absolutely rancid here, then it was only going to smell worse the further from the entrance I got. Besides, what could there possibly be in this cave that would interest me? From what I could see, the trolls had gathered up the remnants of a car boot sale and upended the lot into the cave as if they had riches beyond their belief. The pouch of gold coins that was tied firmly to my belt was all the riches I would ever need. It was far more money than I’d ever had in my life up till now, and I tried not to think about how stupidly wealthy I would be once I got to Erebor.

“Jesus Christ is the son of God. Or that’s what people of the Christian faith would tell you if you met one. I’m far from being an expert in the religions of my world, there are far too many to remember, and it wasn’t like I was religious myself.”

No longer wishing to smell the stench of the cave, I took a couple of steps back toward the entrance. Leaning my body against a moss lined rock so that I could gaze out into the sparse forest and trying not to laugh at the shocked noise that Fili made as he moved to stand beside me.

“You don’t have a faith?”

I guessed to him that must seem like the most horrifying announcement that a person could ever make. This was an ancient world devoid of science, and to him the Gods of the world must be very real indeed.

“My mother didn’t raise me with one. She said I should be able to choose a faith that felt right to me once I could make that choice for myself. I just havn’t found the right one yet.”

A wave of nostalgia and homesickness hit me hard as I talked of my mother. It had been a long couple of weeks since I had last thought of my family, and once again I wondered what they would be doing in their lives. They had to have set up some kind of memorial stone for me by now. Would they nbe gathered around it, mourning my loss and laying wreaths of flowers in remembrance. Was my mother currently praying for the soul of a faithless child to find its way to the afterlife?. I tilted my head up towards the sky, watching the passage of the clouds as they danced across a pale blue background. Blinking away the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes.

“Do you think Mahal would listen to a poor lost human if she prayed for her family?”

As a human, I should have perhaps been offering prayers to Eru. Should beg him to bring comfort to my grieving family, but I didn’t feel like the faith of men was right for me anymore, given the fact I was soul bound with a dwarf.

“He forged my uncle and you as One, I don’t see why he wouldn’t listen to your prayers.”

I let my eyes close as I basked in the pale light of the morning sun. I felt at a complete loss on how to offer prayers to this faceless god that had forged me with one of his children. My thoughts turned inward as I searched for that warm spark that lingered in my soul, the only physical sensation of my bond with Thorin that I could currently feel. I used that as my grounding point to reach out for the god that had created that bond.

Then I offered a silent prayer that my family would be given some manner of small comfort. For them to have answers to the questions they no doubt would have about my fate, and I prayed that they would have long fulfilling lives without me.

By the time I opened my eyes, there was a lump of thick emotion in my throat. My face damp from the few tears that had trickled down my face. Thinking of my family was always going to hurt, but at least I now had another way to channel that grief in a productive manner. I let my head tilt slightly to look at my companion, taking in his broad features and taking a step back in complete shock as I saw the look of seriousness on that regal face of his.

Fili was not a serious soul at heart, would often have a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes that betrayed his desire for a bit of fun. Would always have a smile on those full lips of his. Right now that playful nature of his had completely vanished, giving him a very stoic air that didn’t feel like it belonged to him at all. I was once again reminded of how desperate this young soul was to emulate his uncle. This wouldn’t do at all. Fili might be a playful pain in the ass sometimes, but I much preferred it when he was getting into high jinks with his brother over this much too serious Fili that had cropped up out of nowhere.

“Are you feeling well? You have a most peculiar expression on your face.”

I ‘tsked’ playfully as I moved forward to rest the back of my hand over his brow as if overly concerned for his health. Grinning lightly at him as he tried to swat me aside like an over enthusiastic teen that didn’t want or need the concern of an adult.

“Honestly Auntie, I assure you I am well.”

My brow raised slightly as he openly called me his aunt. This was the absolute last thing I had expected to hear from him today. I had not been courting his uncle for long, not even two weeks yet if I had kept proper tabs on the passage of time, and had expected it would take several months before one of his nephews referred to me in such a familial manner. Dwarves had this uncanny knack for forming instant bonds of friendship, and it filled my heart with joy to know that Fili thought highly enough of me to accept me into his family. 

I couldn’t help but indulge that instant desire to slip into the role he had just given me. Grinning playfully at the young dwarf as I pulled him down into a headlock and ruffling my knuckles into his thick golden locks. The dwarf was all thick set heavy muscle, could have easily shrugged out of my grip if wanted to do so, but was content enough to allow himself to be wrestled into submission by a much smaller human with a chuckle of boyish laughter on his lips.

“Hm, are you sure? I don’t seem to remember having such a serious nephew.” 

My head lowered so that I could look him in the eye, putting on an expression of mock suspicion that only earned me more laughter from the blonde. In that moment he wasn’t a Prince any more, he was just a young man that was enjoying his life to the fullest. I hoped I got to see more of this side of his personality over the next few months - my heart breaking at the thought that I might not even be able to save this delightful young man from the death that awaited him.

“I know I am going to regret saying this, but you need to spend more time with that brother of yours and have a bit of fun. Don’t you be giving me any of this ‘but I’m the crown prince’ malarkey, you only get to be young once Fili and there’s no point wasting the best years of your life being a miserable old coot. Mahal knows you’ll have plenty of time for that nonsense once I’m dead and gone from the world.”

Fili looked absolutely horrified at the idea that I would die one day. He had to know deep down that I would not live as long as a dwarf, although I now acted like one. It filled me with a macabre sense of comfort to know that one of my nephews might be around long after my death, should I succeed in my task to save two of the three heirs of Durin. I still didn’t know what that distant future would look like. Perhaps one of my nephews would rule in the steed of one of my young children whilst they grew into maturity?. Perhaps me and Thorin would never have children of our own and the throne would eventually pass to one of his nephews instead?. It was too fine a day to worry about the future, especially after I’d just lectured Fili on the merits of enjoying your youth while you still had the chance to do so. 

“If your uncle gives you any trouble, you come tell your auntie and I will sort him out.”

“You’ll sort me out, will you? Now that would be quite an achievement given you barely weigh a thing.”

Thorin’s teasing tone drew my attention, and I let Fili free so that I turn around to give the dark-haired dwarf a grin as he stepped out of the cave with a self-indulgent smile flickering at the very edges of his lips. I had not expected him to flirtatiously joke with me in front of his nephew like this. The male still had a habit of keeping that more at ease, part of his nature hidden just under the surface, and I laughed in absolute delight as he was now allowing himself to openly talk in such a manner. My hands lowered to my hips as I walked up to the male, head thrown back as I attempted to look much taller than I actually was and then flashed the male a tormenting wink.

“A woman has her ways, my King, perhaps I will give you a little taster later on today.”

I could hear Fili making a gagging noise from behind me that only drew a peal of joyous laughter from my lips. This was the family dynamic I wanted, to have one of my nephews making embarrassed noises in the background whilst me and his uncle flirted with each other like a pair of lovesick teenagers. My eyes lowered down to Thorin’s waist, drawn by the flare of light as it caught on the magnificent hilt of Orcrist that was now proudly sheathed at his left side, and let out a low whistle of appreciation at the sight.

“Now that’s a sword I have only seen in my visions until now. Orcrist, the goblin cleaver, it will serve you well in the battles to come.” 

Thorin lowered his head slightly to look down at his new sword, as if surprised to hear that it had a name. Then let out a low rumbling chuckle as he pulled something from behind his back that I hadn’t even realised that he’d been holding until now. The sunlight reflected off the silvered pummel of a broadsword that looked no longer than Orcrist, a few cobwebs that hung from its beautiful leather scabbard billowing in the breeze as he handed the weapon toward me with a satisfied smile on his face.

“I have found a gift for my lady in the troll horde. It would make me most happy indeed if you were to accept this token of my affections.”

It was just like a dwarf to find me a practical gift in that hodge podge mess of a horde he’d been probing around in for the past ten minutes. A modern man would have found me some kind of shiny trinket, or gathered together a handful of coins, but Thorin had brought me a sword. I reached out to take the sword from his hands, marvelling at how much lighter it felt in my grip than Kili’s sword had ever felt, and curled my fingers around the hilt to pull the blade free of its sheath.

The metal rang with a crisp note as I gave it an experimental swing, then examined the sharp edge with a critical eye as I tried to make sense of the elvish runes that had been stamped into the blade. I didn’t know what the name of this blade was, for only three swords had been retrieved from the horde in the movie and this was not Glamdring and nor was it Sting, for those two blades were currently being held by their new owners. My lips twitching in unease as I examined the blade, wondering just how many lives this blade had taken during its long life, and how many more it would yet end while in my ownership. 

The blade was shifted back and forth in my hand as I got a feel for its weight and balance, musing to myself that it was the perfect blade for someone of my light stature. I gave a firm nod to Thorin in silent thanks for my gift even as a flurry of alarmed bird song, and Gandalf’s sharp warning tones broke the quiet of the moment.

“Stay together, arm yourselves!”

Thorin rushed forward in an instant, pulling me behind his broad body as he stood in a protective stance to my right with a focused look of determination on his features. A short, barked order was given to Fili, and I watched as the blond took a guard stance at my left flank. If there had been an actual threat, then the pair would have provided a rather fierce defensive wall, their blades gleaming in the light of the mid-morning sun as they faced the direction that the startled birds were calling from.

“Thieves, Fire, Murder!”

The sled of Radagast burst through the forest on our right, and I blinked at the bizarre sight of the large team of rabbits that he was using to pull his sled. I’d of course seen this scene in the movie, but that didn’t stop my jaw from dropping open in shock. My eyes moved from the rabbits to examine the rather eccentric looking wizard that had just arrived on the scene. He was dressed all in brown, and his dirt stained robes had definitely seen better days judging by the sheer amount of darned holes in them. My eyes examined the kindly face of the man and I tried not to wrinkle my nose at the sight of the pure white bird shit that trailed down from his hat.

“Radagast! It’s Radagast the Brown. Well, what on earth are you doing here?”

I lowered my sword from the partial guard stance that I had taken out of instinct. Slipping the blade back into its sheath and carefully tying it into place on my belt where it instantly felt like it had always belonged. My lips twitched as I lowered the palm of my left hand to rest comfortably over the pummel, moving forward to gently nudge my hip in against Thorin’s. It was an attempt to get the dwarf to relax, for he still had Orcrist ready in front of him and was watching this new wizard with suspicious eyes. It was to no effect. My One was still very much on high alert, and wouldn’t fully drop his guard until he was entirely sure I was safe from this new ‘threat’.

“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s wrong, Something’s terribly wrong.”

My gaze moved to the south-west at the sound of Radagast’s trembling voice, still running my fingers over the pummel of my sword as I lifted my brows in concern at the wizard’s words. I knew of the danger he talked of that lurked in the decaying forests of the ancient world, and the awakening power of a far greater danger that would threaten the world in the far future. The time lines in this world confused me greatly. I had thought that Gandalf had already been to Dul Guldur and discovered the growing shadows in those ruins. Yet here was Radagast warning Gandalf about that same threat that was sending sickness and fell creatures into the greenwood. Not entirely sure what it all meant, I stepped away from Thorin despite his grunt that he wasn’t entirely convinced it was safe to leave his side and walked up to Bilbo.

“Now that you have a sword, maybe you will reconsider my offer to train with me?”

The hobbit flushed in a manner that said he still found the idea of using a sword very uncomfortable indeed. He was a Baggins of Bag End and not some noble warrior like the tall people around him. Perhaps he was wondering why he’d even agreed to this journey in the first place, now that he’d encountered actual danger in the form of the trolls?. I wouldn’t blame him if he was actively reconsidering his position in the group. Home must still seem temptingly close to the poor hobbit, and he could so easily decide to leave at anytime he wanted.

“Yes ... yes, I think I shall.”

Good, because poor Bilbo would need those lessons, and should have started weeks ago, for I could already hear the faint howling on the wind that heralded the arrival of the wargs.


End file.
